


Watering My Plance

by 13Vivacious13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, au fics, basically this is a plance dump, lots of them are aus, mostly one-shots but some of them have 2 to 3 chapters, some of the fics are canon, tiny bits of shallura here and there because I love them as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 56,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13Vivacious13/pseuds/13Vivacious13
Summary: A bunch of one-shots, drabbles, and short fics featuring my favorite couple. Some are canon compliant, a lot are aus. I update whenever I feel like it.





	1. Binary Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Plance soulmate AU

It was three days after Lance’s fifth birthday.

Sra. McClain was frying up some breakfast migas when she heard an argument going on upstairs between two of her children.  Just as she was about to scold them she heard her youngest stomp down the stairs and run into the kitchen.

“Mama, Gloria drew all over me with a sharpie!”

From upstairs: “I did not! He’s such a baby!”

A sharpie?! Sra. McClain turned from her cooking to get a good look. Sure enough, her poor boy was covered with black scribbles that wandered all over face, disappearing under his pajama collar only to reappear on his arms and legs. The ink looked like it had faded, as if a day had passed and it was already starting to wear off. But that was unlikely since it certainly hadn’t been there yesterday-

“Ahhhh,” Sra. McClain sighed, a warm smile growing as she realized what was going on. She quickly scooped the migas out of the pan and onto a plate before they burned, then she grabbed a pen and sat down at the kitchen table, motioning for her pouting son to join her.

Lance was eager to crawl into her lap and let her wrap her arms around his waist. “Mijito, Gloria didn’t draw on you. No one did.”

Angry blue eyes flashed up at her. “I didn’t do it!” Lance exclaimed indignantly.

“I know, I know.” His mother uncapped the pen. “Watch this.” On the back of her hand, she wrote, _**Te amo, mi amor.**_

A minute passed. The back of her hand began to tingle slightly.

Lance gasped and grabbed her hand. “Whaaaat?!”

Underneath the first sentence, written as if by an invisible hand, was **_Te amo más, mi cariña._**

Sra. McClain grinned and kissed the message before turning her attention back to her stupified son. “That was your papá. He’s my soulmate, so whatever I write on my skin shows up on his, and whatever he writes shows up on mine.”

Lance’s eyes lit up in understanding. He’d heard older girls at his school talking about soulmates before, usually in whispers and giggles. They were the person you were destined for, whatever that meant.

He frowned as he looked at his own hand. “So… my soulmate drew all over themself with a sharpie? Why would they do that?”

Chuckling, Sra. McClain set him down and walked back to the stove. “I bet your soulmate is younger than you. Remember those pictures I showed you when you were three and got a hold of Adrian’s colored markers?”

Oh yeah… “Why does my soulmate have to be a baby?” Lance complained, his frown deepening.

“They’re not going to be a baby forever, mijo,” his mother replied, cracking eggs on the edge of the pan.

Lance stood next to the table, staring at the back of his hand. After a few minutes, he grabbed the pen and set to work. His brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue could be seen sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he laboriously wrote out, _**Hi!**_ and surrounded it with a circle of stars.

* * *

 

It was two days after Katie’s tenth birthday.

She glared at her arm. It was currently covered with stars and comets, and in the crook of her elbow, a spaceship with stick-figure astronauts could be seen.

Her soulmate was ridiculous.

With an angry huff, she tugged her sleeve down and flopped face-first onto her bed.

It wouldn’t be so bad if her soulmate wasn’t so _persistent_. For as long as she could remember there hadn’t been a day when there weren’t drawings and messages littering her arms and legs. Her mother had taken pictures of nearly all her soulmate’s notes - starting when she was three until Katie had told her to stop at age seven- and saved them in a scrapbook that her daughter wanted to burn on a daily basis. She’d started wearing long-sleeved shirts almost constantly to avoid having to look at the marks.

A familiar, dreaded tingling prickled on the back of her left hand and she screamed into her pillow. She could already guess what it would say. When the tingling stopped she slowly raised her head.

**_Sweet dreams, soulmate._ **

Yup.

Katie rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She stretched her hand up as far as she could, spread her fingers until it hurt.

What gave the universe the right to decide her fate?

As far as historians could tell soulmates had existed for as long as humanity had been around. Everyone, with a few very rare exceptions, had a perfect match waiting for them somewhere. Scientists still couldn’t explain how it worked, and after countless hours of reading through research papers, Katie wasn’t anywhere close to understanding it herself.

She found the whole subject frustrating. She wasn’t opposed to falling in love, she just hated being told who she should spend her life with. What was the meaning of existence without choice?

Her soulmate obviously didn’t share her qualms, even though she’d never, ever replied back.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

Katie frowned, not bothering to look at her brother. Matt walked over and turned her hand so he could read the message. “Aw, that’s sweet,” he cooed, batting his eyelashes at her.

She snatched her hand away with a growl. “It’s stupid,” she hissed.

Matt folded his arms, giving her a look that would have been impressive if he wasn’t so obviously trying to copy their dad. “Why don’t you tell them to stop?”

The thought had crossed Katie’s mind. It was tempting to do so if only to tell them to _knock it off already_ , but that would be giving in, wouldn’t it? She sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I don’t want anything to do with them,” she muttered, burning a hole into the knee of her pajama bottoms. “When I fall in love, it’ll be because I choose to.”

She could feel Matt rolling his eyes and she didn’t appreciate it. The bed creaked slightly as he sat down, clasping his hands together.

“No one said you have to be in love with your soulmate.”

Katie narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Isn’t that, like, the entire point of having a soulmate?”

Matt shook his head. “No, you get to choose what kind of relationship you have with your soulmate. Yeah, most people fall in love with their soulmate, but there are lots of soulmates who are good friends and nothing else. Think of it this way:” He coughed and straightened up,

“'A soulmate is an ongoing connection with another individual that the soul picks up again in various times and places over lifetimes. We are attracted to another person at a soul level not because that person is our unique complement, but because by being with that individual, we are somehow provided with an impetus to become whole ourselves.’“ He paused for a moment and smiled. "That was Edgar Cayce, by the way.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Katie whispered, more to herself than her brother.

“It really isn’t. I think it’s nice that we’re given a way to find the person that will help us grow into who we want to be,” Matt agreed, nudging her gently with an elbow. His grin turned playful. “Then again, what do I know? I haven’t met my soulmate yet.”

He was halfway out the door when he quipped, “But at the very least I talk to mine.”

Katie threw a pillow at him. It missed and thumped harmlessly against the wall.

She looked at her hand again.

Grabbing a pen, she wrote _**Goodnight**_ on the palm of her right hand.

* * *

 

It was one day after Lance’s fifteenth birthday.

“Huuuuuunk! Hunk! HunkHunkHunkHunkHunk!”

Lance barged into the Garrett homestead, barely pausing a second to say hi to Mrs. Garrett before bounding up the stairs two at a time and bursting into Hunk’s room. His best friend glanced at him before turning his attention back to an engineering magazine. “Sup dude?”

Pausing a moment to catch his breath (he’d dashed through two blocks to get there) Lance dramatically whipped off his jacket, baring his arm for Hunk to see.

“What,” _gasp_ , “in the world,” _pant,_ “does THIS mean?!”

Hunk looked up again and this time he stared long and hard. Written on Lance’s arm in a neat script was:

_**01000100 01101111 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110111 01100001 01101110 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100001 01110011 01110100 01110010 01101111 01101110 01100001 01110101 01110100 00111111** _

“What is that?” Hunk asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

Lance flailed his arms. “That’s what I want to know! What’s my soulmate trying to tell me?!”

Hunk held up one finger. “Wait a minute.” He grabbed his laptop; for the next minute and a half, the only sound in the room was the clacking of keys with momentary pauses every few seconds as Hunk studied Lance’s arm. Lance tapped his foot, trying his best to be patient.

“Aha! As I suspected!” Hunk exclaimed, turning his laptop around so Lance could see the screen. “It’s binary code,” he explained with a smug grin.

Lance read the translation aloud, “’ _ **Do you want to be an astronaut?**_ ’” He stared at Hunk quizzically. “Why would she ask me that?”

Hunk laughed. “Maybe because, I dunno, you’re always doodling stars and planets on your arms? Or maybe it’s the fact you tell her every random space fact you can find? Or-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Lance sagged into the chair by Hunk’s desk and held his arm up to the window. “Why binary code?”

“I guess she likes computers? Or she likes messing with you. Probably both.” Hunk shrugged. Lance idly kicked in his general direction, but he was so far away Hunk didn’t bother moving an inch.

After a moment he snatched a marker from Hunk’s desk and wrote, _**Yes, doesn’t everyone at some point?**_

“Have you asked her what her name is yet?”

Lance jerked in his seat. “What?”

Hunk peered at him over his magazine. “I mean, you two have been talking for years now, and she’s asking you about your future career. I think you’ve reached the name swapping stage.”

Working his jaw, Lance rubbed a hand over his arm. “I dunno.”

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to know her name. He did! Lance wanted to know who his soulmate was so badly! He wanted to meet her, talk with her, get to know her beyond what essentially amounted to a penpal relationship. And yet…

“I don’t think we’re ready for that,” he finally said. Hunk squinted and Lance bristled. “Well, I don’t think _she’s_ ready. It took her a long time to talk to me, let alone engage in lengthy conversations. Besides,” he waved his hand airily, “I already know plenty about her.”

“Like what?”

“I know she likes peanut butter, but not peanuts because they’re dry. She’s a night owl, she likes learning about technology,” (he glanced down at his arm, maybe the binary code shouldn’t have come as a surprise) “and I know we both agree that ‘The Seven Samurai’ is one of the greatest movies ever made, beaten only by 'Terminator 2’. Judging by her reactions, she hates puns even though mine are absolutely amazing - yes, they are, Hunk - and she’s a dog person.” He stopped, trying his best to sort out his feelings. “I know that… she makes me want to be more, to learn and improve and make something of myself. I-I mean… I mean…”

The palm of his left hand tingled, and any coherent thought went straight out the window.

_**I guess so. I hope you stick with it.** _

* * *

 

It was Katie’s twentieth birthday.

It was also the first day of spring quarter at Altea University. Katie grumbled as she slowly made herself some coffee, trying her best not to wake up her roommates. She tried to be optimistic. After all, this was the final quarter of her senior year. She’d be graduating with a computer engineering degree in ten weeks. Still didn’t help with the senioritis.

While the coffee brewed she thumbed through her phone, checking her schedule. Sweet, she only had one class today. Astrophysics, as taught by Professor Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe. According to Rate My Professors dot com, he was a great, if somewhat unconventional, teacher.

She smiled at the familiar tingling in her right shoulder. As she drank her coffee and fried some eggs the ticklish sensation spread from her shoulder to just above her elbow. When it finally stopped she walked into the bathroom and looked at her arm in the mirror.

Her soulmate’s artistic talent had improved over the years, from crudely drawn spaceships to intricate star maps. Today he’d recreated a constellation, connecting each star with a thin line of ink. Katie rummaged through her pocket for a pen.

_**Leo, right? From the zodiac?** _

She watched the sentence form on the back of her hand not ten seconds later. _**Yeah, it’s my star sign.**_

_**And here I thought you were a man of science.** _

_**Rude. :P** _

Her soulmate was so much fun.

An hour later found her taking a seat in a huge lecture hall. She’d arrived ten minutes early, so the hall was mostly empty. Her view of the professor -  a tall, thin man with a magnificent mustache - was blocked for a few seconds as two guys slid into the seats in front of her. One of them turned to her, grinning, and held out his hand.

“Hi!”

Katie blinked in surprise. His eyes caught her attention first, a rich, lively blue that reminded her of the ocean and provided a wonderful contrast to his light mocha skin, followed by a long nose and a wide mouth that seemed inclined to laughter. His short brown hair was tousled (it was windy today), but the hand he extended towards her was immaculate.

“Uh… hi?” After a moment she shook his hand.

The young man gestured to himself, then the guy next to him. “I’m Lance, and this is Hunk.” Hunk turned in his seat and waved.

Katie waved back, but she quickly turned her attention back to Lance. There was a magnetic energy around this boy. It nearly made her head spin. “I’m Katie. What, uh, I mean, are you a senior?” she asked.

Lance nodded. “Yup. And you’re… let me guess…” He looked her up and down, and she tried not to squirm in her seat. “A junior?”

Shaking her head, Katie managed a small smile. “Nope. I’m a senior too. I skipped two grades in elementary.”

Lance whistled, his eyebrows shooting up. “Wow! That’s so cool!”

Katie laughed, her tone edging on bitterness. “My classmates didn’t think so at the time.”

Both boys frowned at this, and Lance shook his head. “That sucks. I, for one, appreciate genius,” he announced, rolling up his sleeve. He turned it so the overhead lights cast a clear glow on his arm. “Check this out.”

Hunk rolled his eyes.

Katie stopped breathing.

Her heart skipped a beat and her palms were sweating and the edges of her vision started blacking out _because on his arm-_

She forced herself to take a deep breath.

On his arm, faded but still visible, was the computer schematic she’d painstakingly drawn two days ago.

“My soulmate drew this. Isn’t it cool?” Lance exclaimed, twisting his arm this way and that so she could see every detail she already knew by heart. “She’s so smart, she’s gonna be a computer engineer.” His expression turned dreamy and Katie could not handle it.

Hunk sighed and smiled apologetically. “Sorry about this, he likes to brag about his soulmate every chance he gets.”

“My soulmate is amazing, and deserves to be praised!” Katie’s soulmate, _holy crow he was her soulmate_ , squawked indignantly.

She felt her mouth go dry. Would he still be saying that if he knew who she really was?

“I-” her voice cracked and her face turned a bright red. She quickly pulled her water bottle out of her backpack and chugged down a few gulps, conscious of Lance’s eyes on her.

“I have a pretty cool soulmate too,” she finally said, slowly taking off her jacket. “He’s a space nut, can’t get enough of asteroids and black holes and- and stuff like that.” She couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, his smile had faded slightly. Her fingers gripped the hem of her sleeve tightly.

_Now or never, Pidge._

Katie managed to quell the hysterical urge to laugh. Of course she’d hear her brother’s voice in her head at a time like this.

She jerked the sleeve up, revealing the constellation. “He drew this for me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hunk gasp and press both hands to his cheeks, but that didn’t matter because Lance had got rigid. His hands gripped the back of his chair so hard the knuckles went white. His chest heaved once, twice.

What must he be thinking? _Surely_ she wasn’t what he expected from his soulmate. Not some short, mousy girl with too much attitude and not enough sense to know when to quit. She could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. This was a mistake, she shouldn’t have said anything. She shouldn’t have taken astrophysics in the first place.

Lance looked up, searching her face for something she desperately wanted him to find. Then, oh, _then_ he melted. That thin mouth curled into something so sweet and soft a tear slipped down her cheek. His eyes twinkled as he reached out to brush it away. The brief touch was electrifying.

“Hi, Katie,” he said.

“Hi, Lance.”

There was a small click and a flash of light. The two of them jumped and turned towards Hunk, who was holding up a phone and shaking with excitement.

Lance tried to grab the phone but Hunk held it up and away, his thumbs moving furiously across the screen.

“Who are you sending that to?” Lance demanded.

“Everyone!”

Katie blushed and hid her face in her hands.

“Why are you like this?” she heard Lance hiss. A tap on her shoulder made her peek between her fingers, relieved to see that Lance was red-faced as well. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Do want to get something to eat? I mean-” he glanced over his shoulder at the professor, “I don’t think I can- He’s just going over the syllabus today anyway-”

“Yes!” Katie interrupted, jumping to her feet and quickly packing everything back into her bag. She could already tell the rest of the day would be a wash.

Lance was quick to hop to her side and they started walking for the exit. The urge to crumple the space between them resurfaced, and Katie impulsively grabbed Lance’s hand. He squeezed back, warm and reassuring.

“So… you still want to be an astronaut?”

“You know I do." 


	2. Jetpack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge is Lance's favorite jetpack.

Most of the time, Pidge is the little spoon. It’s the perfect arrangement really, Pidge’s favorite sleeping position is to curl up into a ball, so it’s easy enough for Lance to sneak into her room - it’s not like they’re _doing_ anything besides sleeping, but they doubt Shiro or Matt would see it that way - and cuddle around her like the lanky space heater that he is. Pidge is usually roused into semi-wakefulness when she feels him clamber beside her, but his hands running through her hair and his nose rubbing against her neck send her back to sleep without much difficulty.

(The only problem comes in the morning when Lance has to leave before anyone else notices. He hates mornings with a passion and is an excessive cuddler. It’s led to a few close calls. Pidge suspects that Coran and Allura already know their secret though they haven’t mentioned anything.)

And then… then there are the times when Lance needs to be the little spoon. Pidge can tell when the day has been too rough on him - when his smiles and jokes are off-kilter and exhaustion creeps into his eyes. It usually happens after a tough mission, or when a mission goes horribly wrong (because it can never _just_ go wrong), or when Earth is mentioned one too many times. Hunk, bless his heart, notices too, and usually, his hugs and treats are enough to cheer Lance up, but sometimes it’s not enough.

Lance never asks, he has an infuriating habit of selflessness when he should be selfish, so it’s up to Pidge to take the initiative. On the days when Lance’s shoulders sag and he picks at his dinner, she ambushes him at bedtime. He protested the first few times, now he’s learned to accept it with grace when Pidge is sitting up in bed, patting the mattress impatiently.

He settles in with a sigh, his back to her. Pidge isn’t big enough to engulf him the way he does her, but she can wrap her arms around his chest, hook a leg over his waist and tangle the other between his legs. Lance melts into her and lets his head loll against her shoulder. He’s rewarded with soft kisses on his temple and a thumb rubbing over his collarbone. His kitten-soft hair quickly becomes an object of interest, and he damn near purrs when Pidge massages his neck and pays special attention to the knots of tension behind his ears.

If it’s been a really bad day, this is the time when Lance cries. He _hates_ crying in front of others, nine times out of ten it only makes him feel worse. Pidge is the exception. Still, even with just the two of them he covers his mouth with a hand and tries to contain the shakes and shudders. A lifetime spent holding himself together has made it hard for him to let go. Pidge does her best to coax him to relax into it; to give in to the deep, belly sobs that always leave the body feeling better afterward. It’s… a work in progress.

Afterward, Pidge will lean across and grab some tissues from the bedside table. Lance sighs again once’s he’s cleaned up and sinks into the pillows. Pidge buries her face in the crook of his neck and holds him tight, secure, against her until they both fall asleep.


	3. She Sells Seashells

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Pidge flinched in surprise and nearly whacked Lance with her elbow. Lance, used to such attacks, leaned back and waited until she’d reverted to her favorite position (i.e. sitting cross-legged on the floor and crouching over her computer) before scooching forward so his legs were caging her. They both sighed happily when Lance draped himself across her back, lazily hooking an arm around her waist. It was their favorite arrangement; Lance got to cuddle with his girlfriend and Pidge got a weighted _and_ heated blanket while she worked. 

Lance held a plate under her nose. Pidge leaned back a bit and saw he was offering her a flan. “Hunk made it, I already had mine,” Lance said, handing the plate to her and burrowing his nose into the crook of her neck. She felt the vibration against her collarbone when he yawned. 

The flan was delicious, of course, and Pidge scarfed it down with zeal before turning her attention back to her work. 

Lance was leaning more and more heavily against her. Today’s mission had been rough, and Lance hadn’t been sleeping well the past couple of nights. It was obviously catching up with him. 

“Whatcha doin’?” he finally repeated, snuffling a bit to look at the ones and zeros - he thought they were ones and zeros, he couldn’t read Altean as well as Pidge - flashing across Pidge’s screen. 

Pidge kept typing with one hand and raised the other to gently pat his head. “Just some adjustments to the Galra finder,” she lied. 

“Sweet.” 

After a few minutes, Pidge heard the first faint snore and felt Lance slump over completely. It was a good thing they all trained regularly or she might have collapsed under his dead weight. 

She kept working for another twenty minutes before deciding to call it a night. A slow grin of satisfaction curled up her cheeks as she looked over her nearly completed project. 

Lance’s birthday was coming up, and Pidge had struggled for _weeks_ to think of a suitable gift. Two weeks ago she’d finally hit upon a brilliant idea. She and Lance had spent hundreds of hours playing _Killbot Phantasm I_ , but by now they’d almost finished the entire game, so… she was building Lance a mod.

It wasn’t anything too special, all she was doing was adding a bonus level. Lance loved the ocean, so she was making an underwater level. She’d had a lot of fun creating the swim mechanics and underwater enemies. Hopefully, Lance would like it. 

Pidge pressed a kiss to Lance’s forehead and nudged him. He awoke with a jerk, blinking rapidly. After a few seconds, he groaned and let Pidge haul him to his feet. 

“Bedtime,” she said, guiding him toward his room. Lance mumbled out a small “mmhmm”.


	4. If You Give a Mouse a Key

Fun fact: Adult Alteans only needed 3 to 4 vargas of sleep per quintent - excluding sickness, injury or extreme exhaustion. 

Not so fun fact: Allura didn't give a flying quiznack that her human paladins needed at least 2 more hours of sleep than she did.

The result: Lance took any and all opportunities to take a quick catnap between missions and the near constant training the princess put the team through. He was currently sprawled across one of the couches in the lounge and on the verge of sleep. Today hadn't been so bad, but he'd learned quickly enough that a peaceful day could turn into a nightmare in the blink of an eye. Emergencies were easier to handle when one was well-rested. 

A squeak, quiet but very close, had Lance's eyes fluttering open. Tiny whiskers tickled his nose. He sat up slowly so as not to startle the tiniest of Allura's mice. "Hey, Chulatt. What's up?" he yawned. Chulatt squeaked again and held up a key. 

Wide-eyed, Lance slowly took the key and held it up to the light. It was silvery grey with a square top and obviously of human origin judging by the 'MADE IN THE USA' stamped into one side. "Where'd you get this?" he breathed, running one finger down the ridges of the key, pushing so hard the edges nearly cut his skin.

It was so... normal, but the sight of it was a shock to his system. There were no manual keys like this on the ship. The closest thing Alteans had were keycards, and Coran had mentioned once that they were already considered archaic ten thousand years ago.

"Lance, is that my key?" 

Lance flinched when he finally noticed Pidge standing in front of him. He'd been so fixated that he hadn't heard her enter the lounge. His grip tightened around the key, and for one irrational second, he wanted to lie and hide it away. Instead, he grinned and handed it over to her. 

Pidge flipped it idly in her palm and glared at Chulatt. The mouse stuck its tongue out and dove into Lance's jacket pocket. 

"What-" his voice cracked and Lance quickly coughed. "What's the key for?" 

Pidge's eyes softened a bit. "It's the key to my house. I took one with me before I went to the Garrison, just in case."

Lance's mom kept the spare key under one of the loose bricks that lined the flowerbed.

"Hey." 

Pidge sat down next to him and grabbed his hand. He watched as she intertwined their fingers. "Are you okay?" she asked, already knowing the answer. 

Sniffling, Lance leaned into her shoulder and closed his eyes. He'd be okay. It was just a shock, that was all.


	5. My Dear Lady Disdain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance Au Week 2018 - Day 1: Learning Institution

Pidge tensed as she and Hunk neared the auditorium. “You know, I’ve got a lot of homework. Mr. Smythe just assigned an essay-” 

Hunk pouted. “You promised!” 

Pidge glared back. “A promise made under duress doesn’t count,” she snapped. The two stopped in the middle of the hallway, shuffling to one side to let other students pass. She could see the buses lined up beyond the glass front doors and desperately wanted to get on one. It didn’t matter where it was going, anywhere was better than what waited for her.

“What duress?” Hunk scoffed, crossing his arms. 

“You knew that mentioning these stupid auditions in front of my mom would get her all nostalgic and excited. I only agreed to try out because she kept bringing it up and looking at me with those sad puppy dog eye- Stop that!” 

Hunk was giving her sad puppy dog eyes. “Pleeeease? Just having you there for moral support would mean so much to me.” 

How could a boy that towered over her by a foot look like a lost kitten? 

Pidge groaned and rubbed her forehead. “You’ve been in plays before. And isn’t your friend _McClain_ gonna be there too?”

Hunk bit his lip. “Yeah, but this is the first time I’ll be auditioning for a major role. Besides, Lance gets in The Zone during auditions, so…” Pidge’s unenthused expression had him clasping his hands. “All you have to do is sign up to audition for a minor part and say a few lines, then it’s over! Done! You’ll never have to think about it again… until the show; I’m buying you tickets so you have to come. Pleeease Pidge. Pleasepleaseplease-” 

“Alright, _alright_ ,” Pidge growled, throwing her hands into the air and stomping towards the auditorium. She ignored Hunk’s triumphant “Yes!” as he hurried to catch up. 

* * *

 

“What’s this play again?” Pidge muttered to Hunk as she signed her name on one of the lists. Two tables had been set up on the stage, one with a sign-up sheet for the major roles, and the other with a sheet for the minor ones. Thirty or so students were crowding around her, and the pen was ripped from her hand as soon as she’d finished. “Rude,” she groused. 

Hunk pulled her out of the mob. “It’s _Much Ado About Nothing_. Shakespeare.” He dived back in, wading his way to the other table. 

Pidge meandered down the steps that led to the audience section and sat down. Nearby she could see other kids doing the same. Two students in particular seemed to be gathering a bit of a following around them. Without looking, Pidge could already guess who they were. 

Nyma Vox was the president of the drama club and had starred in most of the theater productions for the past two years. With her impeccable acting talent and effortless grace, it was easy to see why. Even now she commanded the attention of everyone around her, along with her leading man: Lance McClain. 

Pidge narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. He was considered by popular opinion to be _the_ most handsome boy in the school, and Pidge begrudgingly had to concede to it. He _was_ handsome, in a smug sort of way, with his dusky complexion and dark blue eyes that evaluated, sorted, and judged a person with a single glance. His acting career was just as impressive as Nyma’s, which only added to his local fame seeing as he was also the star of the high school swim team. He was popular, charismatic, and something about him just rubbed Pidge the wrong way. 

For a split second his eyes met hers but they quickly moved on. He hadn’t paid her the slightest attention. 

“Whatever,” Pidge muttered, because she honestly didn’t _want_ his attention, and she pulled out her phone. 

* * *

 

“Katie Holt!” 

Pidge jumped in her seat and looked up. Miss Altea, the Drama teacher, was looking around the auditorium. She held one of the sign-up sheets in her slender hands. The students auditioning for the larger roles had gone first and most had left - including Lance and Nyma - leaving the auditorium nearly empty. Hunk, being the kind soul he was, had waited for Pidge.

He gave her a thumbs up as she slowly made her way to the stage. Miss Altea smiled at her and waved for her to follow as she walked backstage. Pidge shuffled awkwardly after her and waited until the teacher had grabbed a chair and sat down, a script in her lap and a clipboard in hand. 

“Hello, Katie. Is this your first time auditioning?” she asked kindly, pulling out a pen from the knot of her large bun. Pidge nodded. “And would you mind telling me why you’re interested?” 

Pidge swallowed and thought about it for a minute. Honestly was the best policy, and if it cut this ordeal short… 

“I’m not interested at all. I’m just here to support my friend and make my mom happy,” she admitted. Miss Altea blinked in surprise. 

“Oh.” 

Feeling guilty and not wanting to completely waste the nice lady’s time, Pidge blundered on. “But, I am good with technology. Computers mostly, but, uh, if you need someone to work with lighting or effects I’d be willing to help.”

Miss Altea regarded her silently, tapping the pen against her lips. Squirming under the appraisal, Pidge found herself looking at her feet. 

“Are you totally against performing, or would you be willing to participate if the opportunity arose?” she finally asked, and Pidge looked up in surprise. 

“Oh, umm…” Pidge shrugged, still unable to meet her eyes. “I guess I’d be willing to try? I don’t know how good I’d be though. My mom used to act, but I take after my dad.” 

Clapping her hands together once, Miss Altea smiled. Pidge’s nervousness grew, and she watched in silent horror as the drama teacher grabbed the script and started rifling through it. After a few seconds of searching, she found what she was looking for. 

“Do you know anything about _Much Ado About Nothing_?” she asked, handing the script to Pidge and pointing to a passage halfway down the page. Pidge shook her head again, barely managing to keep a steady grip on it. 

“Right… read that aloud for me, please. As you do so, imagine you are describing someone who annoys you terribly, someone who the very sight of bothers you,” Miss Altea instructed. 

Lance McClain came to mind. 

Hesitantly at first, but growing more confident, Pidge read aloud: _“Why, he is the prince’s jester: a very dull fool; only his gift is in devising impossible slanders: none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he both pleases men and angers them, and then they laugh at him and beat him.”_

Unthinking, Pidge added hand gestures and her face and voice become more expressive the further down the passage she got. She missed Miss Altea’s pleased smirk when she looked up. 

“Very good!” Miss Altea praised, flipping the page and pointing to another, smaller, section. “Now this one. It’s about the same person, but… a bit different.”

Feeling surer of herself now, Pidge went ahead. _“Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.”_

Instinctively her tone became more melancholy, almost bitter. Whoever was talking seemed weighed down by some trouble, obviously caused by the annoying person they described. 

It was… intriguing.

* * *

 

As Hunk promised, Pidge forgot all about the auditions for the rest of the week. It wasn’t until next Monday, when she was trailing behind a twitchy Hunk, that it reentered her thoughts. 

He went straight to the bulletin board outside the drama classroom where the cast list was posted. There was already a cluster of students crowded around it, but Hunk was tall enough to peer over their heads. 

“Yes!” he yelled, jumping into the air. “I did it! I got the part of Don Pedro!” 

Before Pidge could congratulate him he’d swept her up into a rib-cracking hug. She settled for awkwardly patting his back. 

“Who’s Katie Holt?!” an indignant voice from the crowd demanded.

Hunk released Pidge and they both turned back to the group. Nyma’s back was to them, but anyone could tell she was upset by her bristling posture. Lance was next to her, peering at the list in confusion. 

Pidge slowly raised her hand. “I’m Katie.” 

Everyone stared at her. 

She refused to glance at him, but she could _feel_ Lance looking her up and down, taking in her green turtleneck, messy hair, and large glasses. 

Nyma bit her lip and moved aside, silently inviting Pidge to look at the list. Pidge did so, stumbling a bit as she got closer. At the very top she read: 

Benedick - Lance McClain

And then, right under that: 

Beatrice - Katie Holt

She vaguely heard Hunk gasp, “Pidge, you’re the leading lady!” 

* * *

 

Pidge stormed into Miss Altea’s office as soon as the lunch bell rang. “When I said I was willing to try out acting, I didn’t mean starting out with a huge role! I _literally_ did not sign up for this!” she nearly shrieked, folding her arms and glowering. 

Miss Altea calmly sipped her tea. It seemed this confrontation had been expected. 

“I know I’m asking a great deal from you, but that’s only because I can sense greatness within you. You have a natural talent, Katie, and I think it’s just what this production needs.” She set her teacup down and smiled at Pidge. “If you really don’t want this, then Nyma will take your place.” She held up a finger to stop Pidge from interrupting and continued, “But please, attend the first read-through of the script before you decide.” 

Pidge agreed with little good grace. Her mind was already made up.

* * *

  
Hunk waited patiently as Pidge looked up the plot of _Much Ado About Nothing_ , something she’d only thought to do after her discussion with Miss Altea. He snickered when she froze in her seat. 

“What’s McClain’s part again?” she whispered. 

“Benedick.” 

Pidge banged her head against the cafeteria table. 

* * *

  
School ended all too quickly for Pidge’s liking.

Miss Altea had pushed all the tables in the drama room back against the walls and arranged most of the chairs in a giant circle. Pidge gingerly took the seat closest to the door and Hunk sat next to her. They were fairly early - Hunk was a stickler for punctuality and not even Pidge’s dragging feet could deter him - so they spent the next few minutes watching the other cast members trickle in. Most of them greeted Hunk with a smile or a wave and stared long and hard at Pidge, appraising the girl who’d upset the natural order of things.

She was glad when Miss Altea passed her a copy of the script. It gave her something to do besides pick at the frayed cuffs of her jeans. A shiver ran up her spine halfway through the second page, and she turned to watch as McClain walked in. He swept by her without a glance, got a script from Miss Altea, then sat in the chair directly opposite Pidge. His twinkling blue eyes met hers and after a few seconds of staring, he winked. 

Pidge scowled and looked away. 

(Out of the corner of her eye she could see his shoulders shaking with laughter.)

“Is this everyone?” Miss Altea asked, looked around. “Excellent. Let’s get started.” 

The reading began with everyone going around the circle and introducing themselves and telling what part they were playing. Pidge stuttered her way through it, refusing to look up from her feet. They then began the actual reading, which was a relief because it meant fewer eyes on her. She was glad she’d looked over the first scene beforehand and managed to suss out most of her lines without too many ungainly pauses or fumbled phrases. Even so, she crouched forward in her seat, both hands gripping the script like a lifeline. 

On the other hand, Lance seemed totally relaxed. He leaned back in his seat, and when the time came for him to speak he did so smoothly and clearly. His voice was rich and vibrant, invoking a roguish charm that captivated most of the listeners. 

_“If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.”_ As he said this his gaze flitted to Pidge. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

Pidge was ready. _“I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you.”_

Placing a hand over his heart in indignation, Lance shot back, _“What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?”_

_“Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.”_

Okay, this was kind of entertaining. McClain was making it easy for her to play off of him. Hunk caught her eye and grinned, bolstering her newfound confidence.

_“Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.”_ Life imitated art as Lance flashed a dazzling smile around the room. Several girls giggled. 

Pidge rolled her eyes and drawled, _“A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.”_

_“God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall ‘scape a predestinate scratched face.”  
_

More and more people were chuckling now, enjoying the verbal sparring match. 

_“Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were.”  
_

_“Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.”  
_

_“A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.”_

Pidge was actually disappointed when the scene ended. 

* * *

  
Lance caught her afterward. Hunk, the traitor, saw him coming and abandoned her by the vending machine. Pidge saw his reflection approach in the glass and determinedly focused on buying her Monster. He waited until she’d chugged down half the can in one go before asking, “So… are you gonna stick around?” 

She finished the rest of her drink without a word. 

“Miss Altea said you were on the fence about performing. Have you made up your mind?” he persisted.

Pidge mechanically threw her can into the trash while she thought. Against all odds, she’d had fun today, and a growing part of her wanted to continue. But the realistic part of her consciousness reminded her that today had probably been a fluke. It would be different, and difficult, when she had to _act out_ her part. And the thought of performing in front of an audience… 

Lance waved a hand in front of her face. “Helloooo?” 

Pidge slapped his hand away sharply. Lance winced, rubbing at the red spot forming on his wrist. 

What did he care anyway? He probably hoped she’d quit so Nyma could take her place. 

The thought made her proud, contrary nature swell, pushing aside her doubts and fears. She’d put on the best damn performance ever, and she’d thoroughly enjoy insulting Lance to his face while she did so. 

“Yeah, I think I’ll 'stick around’,” she finally answered, making air quotes with her fingers. 

Lance wasn’t as put out as she thought he’d be. If anything, he seemed somewhat excited. 

“Great! What’s your number?” he asked, pulling out his phone. 

Pidge’s brain short-circuited. “…What?” 

“You’re number? So we can keep in touch?” 

“Why?” 

Lance rolled his eyes. “Because it makes sense. Duh. If we were partners for any other school project we’d do the exact same thing.” 

He had a point. She gave him her number.

* * *

  
Not ten minutes later she got a text from him. 

**Hey, just wanted to say a good job today! Can’t wait for next rehersal~**

* * *

  
When she showed it to Hunk the next day, he started laughing.


	6. Black Paladin Matt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance AU Week 2018 - Day 2: Canon Divergence

“You come up here to rock out?”

Pidge gasped and flailed around, finding herself face to face with a curious Lance and timid Hunk. She quickly composed herself, the relief at not being caught by a teacher overriding her annoyance with her teammates.

“Oh, Lance, Hunk. No, um, just looking at the stars,” she stuttered, trying to look innocent. Technically, she wasn’t lying.

“Where’d you get this stuff? It doesn’t look like Garrison tech,” Lance commented. Hunk peeked over his shoulder.

Feeling a surge of pride well up, and a bit of goodwill towards Lance for noticing, Pidge grinned. “I built it,” she said, not bothering to sound casual.

“You built all of this?” Hunk asked, reaching out to poke her keyboard.

Pidge smacked his hand, ignoring his yelp. “Stop it. With this thing, I can scan all the way to the edge of the solar system.”

Lance placed a hand on his chin and rubbed thoughtfully. “That right?” He glanced at Pidge, sly and all too knowing for her liking. “All the way to Kerberos?” Pidge scowled and looked away. How could such a dense idiot read her like a book? Lance huffed and pointed out, “You go ballistic every time the instructors bring it up. What’s your deal?”

Hunk was messing with the satellite dish.

“Second warning, Hunk!” she snapped.

Lance wasn’t having any of her evasion tactics. “Look, Pidge, if we’re going to bond as a team, we can’t have any secrets.”

Pidge stared at her screen for a second. Maybe it was recklessness, or maybe it was months of Lance covering for her that convinced her to trust him. If he wanted the truth, he’d get it.

“Fine. The world as you know it is about to change. The Kerberos mission wasn’t lost because of some malfunction or crew mistake-” Hunk was reaching for her keyboard _again_. “STOP TOUCHING MY EQUIPMENT!” Hunk groaned and flopped onto his side. “-So, I’ve been scanning the system and picking up _alien radio chatter_.”

Hunk sat up in a hurry. “Whoa, what? Aliens?” he demanded.

Lance let out a breath. “Ohhhkay, so you’re insane. Got it.”

This motherfu- Pidge glared at him and reached for her notepad. “I’m serious. They keep repeating one word, "Voltron”. And tonight it’s going crazier than I have ever heard it.“

In hindsight, maybe she shouldn’t have doodled so much on the page.

Lance looked at it, clearly still unimpressed. "How crazy?”

The three of them flinched when the alarms went off. Iverson’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Attention, students. This is not a drill. We are on lockdown! Security situation Zulu Niner. Repeat: all students are to remain in barracks until further notice.”

Pidge looked at her screen. This had to be about the aliens!

“Is that a meteor?!” Hunk yelled, pointing up at the sky. A red light, growing brighter by the second, was headed towards the Garrison at incredible speed. Pidge grabbed the binoculars resting on her backpack and looked. There, in the middle of the red light- “It’s a ship!”

Lance snatched the binoculars, pulling her along with them as he too checked. “Holy crow! I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” he gasped. “That’s _not_ one of ours.”

Pidge leaned back and watched as the ship whizzed over the compound. “No, it’s one of theirs,” she breathed. She was terrified, of course, but she was also ecstatic. _She was right._

The ship disappeared behind a giant outcropping of sandstone. They felt the earth tremble as it landed. Gathering up her equipment as fast as she could, she started racing for the doors. “We gotta see that ship.” Lance easily matched her pace, looking just as eager. “Hunk, c'mon!”

* * *

 

By the time they reached the spot and found a good place to observe, the Garrison soldiers had already set up a perimeter around the crash site and assembled a medical tent, something that made Pidge tremble. She forced herself to focus on hacking into their cameras while Lance played lookout.

“What the heck is that thing?” Lance gasped, adjusting the binoculars.

Then, “And who the heck is she?”

“Lance!” Pidge smacked the back of his head without looking up.

“Ow! Right, alien ship.” He set the binoculars down with a glum expression. “Man, we’ll never get past all of those guards to get a look.”

Hunk brightened a bit. “Yeah, yeah, I guess there’s nothing left to do but head back to the barracks, right?”

Pidge screamed.

She’d hacked into the camera feed the Garrison had set up in the tent. Three med techs were gathered around a medical gurney. Matt was strapped to the gurney.

Matt was strapped to the gurney.

_Matt-_

Lance and Hunk leaned in to look at the screen. “Hey, isn’t that one of the scientists from the Kerberos mission?”

“What happened to his hair? And his arm?” Hunk gasped.

Matt was trying to tell the doctors something, but they weren’t listening. Of course, they weren’t listening, the bastards. Pidge scrambled to her feet and started running toward the tent. Lance grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Whoa, Pidge-”

“He’s my brother!” Pidge yelled, twisting in his grip. Lance let go and stepped back, but Pidge didn’t try to run again. She… she needed his help. Taking a deep breath, she looked him in the eye. “Matt’s my brother, Lance. I need to save him.”

She saw the enormity of the situation crash down on him, his eyes widened and he stared at her. “Your brother… Your brother and your dad… Oh, Pidge…” His mouth twisted into a frown so sorrowful and compassionate it nearly made her cry.

Lance reached out to pat her shoulder or maybe even pull her in for a hug, Pidge never found out. Four explosions went off in the desert, making all of them shriek and stare at the giant dust clouds.

“Is that the aliens? Are they here? They got here so quick!” Hunk yelped, crouching down as the resultant gust of wind buffeted against them.

Pidge looked down at the crash site. Most of the Garrison soldiers were leaving the area to check out the explosion, but off to the right, she could just make out a slim red hoverbike racing for the tent. “Look!” She pointed to it and Lance snatched up the binoculars.

After a few moments, Lance stiffened. Then he threw down the binoculars - which Pidge caught because _they were really expensive Lance_ \- and started running.

“It’s Keith! That guy is always trying to one-up me!” he yelled over his shoulder.

Hunk and Pidge chased after him. “Are you sure?” Hunk called after him.

“Who’s Keith?” Pidge demanded.

She only knew of two Keiths. One was Cadet Keith Kogane who’d been expelled from the Garrison just before she’d joined. The other had only been mentioned once by Matt. Apparently, Shiro, the Kerberos pilot, had a little brother by the same name. As they neared the tent a sudden epiphany struck her: they were probably the same person, weren’t they?

An extra shot of adrenaline sent her sprinting past Lance and charging straight into the tent. All of the med techs were down, and the stranger, Keith, was pulling an unconscious Matt over his shoulder. She planted herself firmly in front of him. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

Keith backed up a step. “He’s my friend.”

“He’s my _brother_!”

Keith stared at her in shock. “You’re… Katie?”

Had Matt told him about her? Pidge wanted to ask more questions, wanted to examine Matt more carefully _(He’s missing an arm. Why is he missing an arm?!)_ , but Lance entered the tent and snapped, “Hey, mullet! We’re saving Matt!”

“Uh… who are you?”

Lance spluttered while Hunk waved shyly by the door.

“They’re my friends, and I’m saving my brother,” Pidge interjected.

Keith looked unsure but eventually nodded.

* * *

 

No wonder the Garrison expelled this guy. He was absolutely insane.

Who the hell willingly _drives off a cliff?!_

* * *

 

The cabin - more of a shack, really - was small. There was only one place to sleep comfortably, a couch, and they deposited Matt on in.

Pidge finally had the chance to look him over and didn’t waste the opportunity. Matt’s hair had grown until it nearly brushed his shoulders, and part of his bangs was pure white. When she brushed a hand through them, Pidge noticed the white part felt silkier than the rest. Next, she traced the scar running down his left cheek, felt the ridge of raised flesh.

He was too thin. She’d noticed while helping Keith carry him that his arms and shoulders had become much more defined, but there was also a certain look of strain about him; as if the muscles had been forced to grow without sufficient nourishment.

Then, of course, there was his arm. Pidge couldn’t begin to identify what kind of metal the prosthetic was made of, or even if it was metal at all. She bent each finger and then his elbow, noting the full range of motion. The metal panels fit together seamlessly except for a small panel near his elbow. Pidge noticed a few scratches and grooves around the edges. Taking out a flathead screwdriver from her backpack, she carefully pried the panel open. Exposed wires glowed with a faint purple light, though the actual source seemed to come from the hand region. What interested Pidge more was the words carved into the underside of the panel in Matt’s sloppy handwriting.

_Find Voltron Lions_

_Quintessence_

_WITCH_

A hand pressed into Pidge’s shoulder. She flinched and snapped the panel shut. Lance knelt down next to her and draped a light blanket over her shoulders. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“What? Me? I’m fine,” Pidge said quickly, hating the concern in his eyes. Those four little words broke through the dam she’d built around her heart, and when Lance wiped at her cheek she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been to feel tears streaming down her face.

“It’s just- They said he was dead, but I knew he wasn’t. _I knew_ , and now he’s back and-”

Lance hugged her. A few seconds later she felt Hunk sidle up behind her and pulled them both in for a group hug. Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge could see Keith standing in a corner of the shack, his eyes soft even as his jaw tightened.

Eventually, she pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Thanks, you guys, for helping me.”

Lance grinned. “Are you kidding, there’s no way we would have missed this!” Hunk’s grumbling went ignored “I just wish you’d told us you were Matt’s little brother sooner, it would have cleared up a lot of things,” Lance continued.

“Brother?” Keith asked, heavy brows furrowing in confusion.

Pidge winced.

“Yeah, Pidge and Matt are brothers,” Lance said.

Hunk began, “Uh, Lance-” but Pidge interrupted.

“Actually, Lance… I’m a girl.”

Lance’s jaw dropped.

Hunk poked his friend. “Lance, buddy?”

“W-WHAT?! HOW?!”


	7. Hidden Cove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance AU Week 2018 - Day 3: Secrets

The sun had barely risen when Pidge ran out to the beach. 

She was barefoot, and rain from the night before meant the sand was damp and firm under her feet as she raced toward the edge of the water. The beach towel slung over her shoulder flapped behind her like an inglorious cape as she splashed into the surf. Shivers ran up her legs when the cold seawater drenched her calves.

Pidge skittered back after a few seconds, watching the waves push a seashell up onto the beach. It was high tide, and all sorts of interesting things were washing up on the shore. 

With that in mind, Pidge jogged down the shoreline, heading for a sheltered cove she’d found last summer. Because of the sharp rocks, surfers gave it a wide berth, but during low tide, it had the most amazing tide pools. 

One year ago, almost to the day, she’d snuck out of her parent’s vacation house at four in the morning to see the tide pools. Her father’s camera tucked under her arm, she’d hopped from rock to rock, taking pictures of tiny fish that darted among the prickly anemones and fat starfish. It wasn’t until nearly an hour later that she realized just how far from the shore she was, or that the tide was coming in with rapidity. 

She could still remember how her stomach had dropped when one misplaced step had sent her plunging into the ocean. What she didn’t remember was hitting her head on a rock and blacking out. 

Waking up had been painful. Her head had throbbed like a jackhammer was going to town on it, and when she’d opened her eyes all she could make out at first was a blurry figure hovering over her. It took her a few minutes to realize that she was (a) soaked, (b) lying on the beach and (c) the blurry figure had vanished. Oh, and (d) her dad’s camera was gone too. 

At the time she hadn’t been able to figure out what exactly happened that day, her concussion left her out for the count for a few weeks and by then she was back in Arizona. 

Now, though… now she knew. 

 

Pidge couldn’t stop her growing grin as she reached the cove and saw Lance waiting for her. He was resting underneath a rock shelf that shaded him from the sun and obscured him from all but the most curious eyes. She saw him sit up a bit straighter when he saw her approach, and he scooted over to make room. 

“Hey,” she whispered, spreading out her towel and sitting cross-legged on it. Lance immediately crawled over to sit next to her. Even after a few weeks of knowing Lance, seeing him, Pidge gasped when he shifted his gorgeous blue tail so it curled around the two of them. 

And to think, merfolk had merely been the stuff of legends only a month ago. 

Lance caught her staring and grinned, wiggling his fins. He knew she thought he was gorgeous, and certainly wasn’t above preening. 

“Hey yourself,” he whispered back, reaching out to grab one of her feet. Toes were endlessly fascinating to him. Pidge ran a hand down the length of his tail in gentle retaliation and Lance shivered pleasantly from the warmth of her hand. He was of the opinion that Pidge gave off heat like an underwater volcano; she argued that he was cold-blooded with the way he clung to her. 

After a few minutes spent bending each toe, Lance glanced up to see Pidge staring off towards the horizon. Pensive and wise, she made him forget that he was, in fact, two years older than her. “What are you thinking?” he asked, tilting her chin to look at him. Pidge blinked, coming back to herself, and smiled. 

“I was thinking of the day you rescued me.” 

Lance hummed and leaned against her shoulder. “I’m so glad I decided to come to the surface that day,” he murmured. 

He felt Pidge’s wry chuckle. “Yeah, me too,” she replied. 

The thought of what might have happened had things been different was unpleasant, so Lance leaned over to kiss the corner of her mouth. Her lips were unnaturally sweet, probably from those bits of human food Pidge called “see-ree-all”

Pidge turned her head and leaned in for a proper kiss. In contrast, Lance’s lips tasted like salt and seaweed. The kiss got more heated and Pidge pressed against Lance’s chest until he lost his balance and flopped onto his back. He stared up with hooded eyes as Pidge straddled his waist. 

Grinning, Pidge dragged one finger across that sensitive line on his hips where skin merged into scales. Lance bit his lip to keep from gasping, but he couldn’t stop his body from trembling when her hands moved up to rub the patches of scales that littered his stomach, shoulders, arms, and neck. His gills flapped in useless delight when her fingers ghosted over them before gently cradling his face. 

“I sure am lucky,” she said, massaging the tiny blue scales on his cheek with a thumb.

Lance hooked his arms around her neck and tugged until she was within kissing distance again.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had just set when Lance slipped under the waves for the night. 

He sighed as the cool currents soothed his irritated skin. Sitting in the shade and small dips in the water every so often could only do so much. Once he figured out how he’d take Pidge underwater for a day. Humans had invented a way already, he’d seen them traverse the ocean floor with thick rubber suits and metal bubbles on their heads, but that would never do. His clan had several magic users, surely they could come up with some potion or ointment or whatever. The only problem would be concealing exactly what - and who - it was for. 

Lance dived deeper, keeping an eye out for his family. If they found out he’d gone to the surface again… well, it wouldn’t be pretty. 

As it was, Hunk, not his older sister, was the one who caught him as he finally reached “safer waters”. He pounced on the smaller Mer immediately, his golden tail twitching with nervousness. 

“Where have you been all day? No one could find you anywhere!” Hunk demanded, pulling Lance in for a hug. Lance went limp, accepting his fate until he was finally released and allowed to breathe again. 

Lance nudged his friend’s shoulder and said, “I was exploring, that’s all.” 

Hunk crossed his arms and glared. “Exploring on the surface?”

“What? No, of course not,” Lance lied, for all the good it did him.

Groaning, Hunk rubbed his temples. “Laaance, it’s forbidden for a reason,” he whined. “If Allura found out she’d-” 

“Who said anything about telling Allura?” Lance chuckled nervously, looking over his shoulder as if the clan’s young matriarch would appear at any moment.

“Please Lance, what if you get caught?” 

Lance sighed and wrapped an arm around Hunk’s shoulder. “You worry too much, buddy,” he comforted. 

He didn’t tell Hunk that he’d already been caught a long time ago.


	8. The Maid and the Marauder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance AU Week 2018 - Day 4: Lore

A cloaked figure hurried up the path leading to the stately home of the Honorable Sheriff. A guard at the door stirred as if to stop the stranger in his tracks, but a hand flashed out from under the cloak, pulling out pendant engraved with the Sheriff’s coat of arms. The guard stared at the figure for a second before nodding warily and allowing him to pass. 

Maids and footmen made way for the man as he swept through the household, climbing the flight of stairs leading to the Sheriff’s study. He entered without knocking. 

The Sheriff, Sendak by name, was a huge man. He easily towered over most of the people of Arus, and his tactical genius combined with his large stature made him a powerful and feared servant of the King. In the darkened study illuminated only by the fireplace, he looked especially fearsome.

He glanced up with his one good eye as the cloaked man entered, then returned to studying a map that was spread out across his desk. “You’d better have good news, Haxus,” he rumbled. 

Haxus pulled down his hood and slicked back his hair as he approached the desk. The map was a detailed recreation of the Olkari forest. As he got closer he could see multiple red Xs had been inked across various landmarks. 

“I do not know where their hideout is,” Haxus began. Sendak’s growls increased in volume. “But I hardly think that matters, seeing as we can make them come to us.” 

Sendak scoffed. “We have tried that before, many times. They’ve always managed to escape at the last second.” He swept the map to the floor and banged a fist against the mahogany desk in frustration. “That damn robber and his rabble have been allowed to roam free for too long, their existence is a blight on my reputation! The King himself has called my competence into question.” He glowered at Haxus. “If all you can do is give useless advice then you have no business being my deputy.” 

Haxus waited for Sendak to finish. He clasped his hands behind his back and wandered over to the window. From the house’s vantage point on a hill, he could see lights coming from the village of Arus in the distance. “The heart of the problem is that we haven’t provided sufficient bait for our slippery friend,” he explained. 

He heard Sendak huff and the creak of wood as the Sheriff settled into his chair. “‘Sufficient bait’? We held a blasted archery contest with a golden arrow as the grand prize! What’s more sufficient than that?” 

Pulling out a scrap of parchment, Haxus turned and faced Sendak. “I received a tip from a butcher that I believe provides the answer. Rumor has it a certain maid, the daughter of Sir Samuel Holt, sneaks into Olkari forest and more often than not returns with a bouquet of forget-me-nots.” 

Sendak jerked in his seat. Forget-me-nots; McClain’s calling card. 

“Love turns even the slyest of foxes into fools. Arrest the girl and McClain will fall headfirst into our trap,” Haxus concluded smugly. 

The Sheriff stared into the fire for a moment, he hadn’t gained his reputation by rushing ahead with half-formed plans. “Your idea has merit, and it gives me an excuse to rid myself of two pests at once. Arrest the entire family; everyone knows that Sir Holt is sympathetic towards those rebels.” He pointed a meaty finger at Haxus. “Do not fail, deputy. I want Lance McClain’s head on my desk by the week’s end.”

* * *

 

“M'lady, m'lady!” 

Katherine roused herself with a start. It was still dark, but in the pale, grey light that came before dawn she could make out the silhouette of one of the maids. “Shay?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. 

A loud crash from downstairs and the accompanying clomp of many boots chased away the last dregs of sleep even as the larger girl pulled her out of bed. 

“It’s the sheriff’s men. They’ve come to arrest your family,” Shay explained, pushing a bundle of roughspun clothes into Katherine’s arms. “You must disguise yourself and flee, I believe it is you that they hunt most eagerly.” 

Katherine’s head spun. Her family was being arrested? She could hear her father’s voice, and her brother’s, but they were quickly overpowered by the shouts of many strangers. 

Her eyes landed on the bouquet resting in a vase by the window. 

“No…” she whispered. This was her fault. It had to be. Her family was in danger because of her-

Shay grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. “Lady Katherine, I’ve locked the door but you must leave _quickly._ ” Katherine glanced down at the clothes. They weren’t her usual ensemble of dresses and ribbons. They were plain, peasant clothes worn by the village boys. She changed quickly, automatically, with Shay’s help. 

Something heavy banged against her door. “Open in the King’s name!” a gruff voice shouted through the wood. 

Shay started tying bedsheets together. Katherine looked herself up and down in the mirror. She’d never pass a kitchen lad, not with her hair. Fumbling through the chest at the foot of her bed, she found the small knife Lance had gifted to her last Christmas. Grimacing, she grabbed a handful of her tawny hair and started sawing at it. The knife was sharp and she accomplished her goal in half a minute. 

The banging got louder, the shouting more insistent. 

One last glance in the mirror. She’d done a horrible job of it, her hair was uneven and wild, sticking out every which way. Shay gave her a cap and smudged her face with soot. There was a splintering crack as a spearhead burst through the door. 

Shay tied one end of the makeshift rope to a bedpost and threw the rest out the window. Luckily, Katherine’s bedroom was on the second story near the back, so the rope reached the bottom. Her time spent in the forest now served Katherine well as she climbed down the side of her estate and hid behind the nearest topiary. Shay joined her, pushing her in the direction of the kitchen gardens. 

“You must hide with the staff, then make for the forest as soon as may be,” Shay instructed. “I’ve sent Rax to warn your mother.” 

Katherine sighed in relief. Her mother had left last fortnight to visit her great-aunt. She, at least, was safe. 

“The sheriff has gone too far this time, it will not stand,” Katherine hissed. 

* * *

 

Deep within the heart of the Olkari Forest, in a clearing no mapmaker had ever found, stood an old oak tree. It rose high above all other trees around it, and it’s gnarled, twisted branches cast a cool shade upon a nearby cave. The glow of several fires could be seen coming from the depths of the cave, and the murmur of many voices was carried by the evening breeze to the topmost branches of the oak, where Lance McClain was perched.

The Outlaw of Olkari, the most beloved and hated man in Arus, the scoundrel who stole from the rich and aided the poor, the dashing rogue who led the most notorious band of rebels in the history of Altea, was currently occupying himself by fletching some arrows. He let one leg dangle over the side of the thick branch he was sitting on, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he concentrated on gluing goose feathers to the shaft of an arrow. 

The sounds from the cave grew louder, and when he glanced down he saw a group of his men leave the cave and wander out into the glade. Among them, Lance could see Hunk, his best friend and second in command. Lance was the greatest shot in Arus, but no man - nay, not even ten - could overcome Hunk Garrett when he had a quarterstaff in hand. Lance leaned further down and called, “What’s going on?” 

Hunk looked up and was about to answer, but another rebel, Rollo, spoke first. “Nothing much, I’m about to make some easy money,” the lanky man replied cheerfully. Lance raised an eyebrow but settled for simply watching as Rollo broke away from the pack and moved to stand under another tree. He pulled a gold coin out of his pouch and looked to the group. “Ready?” 

Another figure emerged. It was Keith, the newest addition to the band. He and Lance had gotten off to a bad start, and to tell the truth they had yet to get through a single civil conversation, but Lance could not deny Keith’s courage or skill in combat. The brooding young man had not fully explained why he’d given up a promising career as one of the King’s soldiers, but from what Lance had gathered it had something to do with his brother and an unjust arrest. Lance hadn’t pressed the matter much, he often found that almost everything of import could be discovered by being clever and observant. 

Keith positioned himself until he was roughly ten yards away from Rollo. One hand rested on his belt, thumbing at one of his many throwing knives. 

“Remember, it has to be dead center,” Rollo said. Then he flicked the coin into the air with his thumb. 

Keith’s arm was a blur, and Lance barely had time to register the flash of sunlight on metal before a dull thud echoed across the clearing. An excited rumble erupted from the group as they took in the sight of the coin pinned to the tree by Keith’s knife. Rollo’s jaw dropped and he could only stare as Hunk rushed forward to examine it. 

“He hit the center,” Hunk announced, turning to look up at Lance. “You couldn’t have done better with your bow.” 

Lance gave Keith a look of begrudging admiration and started to clamber down the tree with the said bow slung over his shoulder. He’d just reached the bottom (Rollo was handing Keith a small pouch of coins) when a commotion could be heard just beyond the treeline. Everyone grabbed their weapons; perhaps their hideout had finally been discovered. 

“Who are you? State your- Ow!” 

The scuffling and curses drew nearer, and Lance could see one of his sentries struggling to fend off a smaller unknown assailant. He wavered, unsure of whether to go help or to wait until the enemy was out in the open. The decision was taken out of his hands when the sentry fell with a yelp and the stranger burst into the clearing. Lance nocked an arrow and aimed. “Halt! Who are you?” he yelled.

The stranger - a peasant boy? - stared at him incredulously. Familiar, furious hazel eyes met Lance’s astonished blue ones and Katherine stomped her foot at him. “Really?” she demanded, pulling off her cap and rubbing the soot off her face with one hand. 

Lance let the arrow fall harmlessly from his fingers and rushed to meet her, gripping her shoulders. “Kate! What are you-? How-?” 

“My family’s been arrested. Father, Matthew, the sheriff’s men took them this morning,” Katherine interrupted, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s my fault, Lance. I don’t know how, but he must have found out about our meeting. As I was leaving the village I heard one of those brutes say that I was to be captured at all cost. If not for this disguise, I don’t think I would have made it. The countryside is swarming with soldiers.” 

Hunk nodded slowly. “It makes sense. You’d be the perfect bait, m'lady.” 

Lance pulled Katherine in for a hug as his men murmured angrily. Guilt flooded through his chest. This wasn’t Katherine’s fault, it was his. He should have known that maintaining contact with Katherine and her family would bring trouble for them. 

“I’ll save them, Kate,” he promised, wiping her tears away with one hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll get them back, and make Sendak pay in full.” 

“ _We’ll_ save them,” Katherine corrected, quickly returning to her mood of excitement and passion. “I’m not letting you risk your life alone. In any case, it’s my family we’re rescuing.” Lance opened his mouth to argue, but Katherine’s glare was so fierce that he demurred, his attention and hand wandering to her hair. 

He scrunched up his nose as he took in her shorn locks. “What on earth were you trying to do? Disguise yourself as a haystack?” 

Katherine slapped his hand away and the rebels chuckled. “'Twas your blade that did the deed,” she said, pulling out the knife from her pocket. 

Lance made an elegant bow and pointed toward the cave. “Well, if you’ll follow me, madam, I have a pair of scissors that may help.”

* * *

 

Katherine was given a seat by the fire where Lance and his most trusted men would gather. The cave was larger than it appeared from the outside, and more than big enough to accommodate the fifty or so men that lived there. 

Hunk handed her a bowl of broth, and she gratefully sipped at it while Lance snipped at the ragged ends of her hair with the promised scissors. She watched the rebels bustle about, some of them bringing in the King’s forbidden deer for supper, others sharpening swords, and still more running in and out to report to Lance and Hunk in hushed whispers. She didn’t have the wherewithal to try and eavesdrop. Her nerves had taken all they could stand today, and now she felt as frayed and worn out as these peasant clothes.

She flinched when Lance shoved a hand mirror under her nose. “Here, how’s this?” 

Lance had done a good job all things considered. Her hair still stuck out like a lion’s mane near the nape of her neck, but at least it was uniform in length. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and handed the mirror back with a smile. “Wonderful. If you ever decided to give up a life of crime I’m sure you’d make a fine living cutting hair for the ladies in court.” Lance snorted and tickled her neck. 

Katherine’s expression became somber and she twisted around fully to regard Lance. “What’s the plan?” 

“Plan?” 

“The plan to rescue my family,” Katherine explained, her tone edging towards impatience. 

Glancing at the cave mouth, Lance shrugged. “I’ve sent out some men to find out as much as they can in the village. They probably won’t be back until tomorrow.” 

“So we just… sit around until then?” Katherine’s voice rose, her grip on his knee becoming a vice. “My father and brother are at the mercy of the prison guards, and you’re content with lazing around here stuffing your face?!” Most of the men had stopped what they were doing to stare at her.

Lance’s even gaze turned to flint. “Believe me, your family’s suffering pains me almost as much as it grieves you, but we can’t just walk up to the prison and expect-” 

Katherine was too angry to listen. She stood up abruptly and headed for the mouth of the cave. “If you’re not going to help me, then I’ll go rescue them myself!” she shouted over her shoulder. 

“Kate! Hold on, you can’t-” 

“Don’t you tell me what I may or may not do, Lance McClain!” 

She was fast when she wanted to be, and such a sight that none of the robbers dared stop her as she stormed out of the cave. Night had fallen outside, and with only the crescent moon to light her way she stumbled and tripped over the oak’s roots. Lance was just quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground. A dry, heaving sob escaped her and she found herself clinging to Lance’s shirt.

“Kate, listen. I feel the same as you. I want to march right up to the sheriff, grab his keys, and free everyone in that damn prison. But we have to be clever and careful about this. If we rush in and get captured or killed ourselves then who will rescue your family? I’m- I’m so sorry, Kate. Don’t blame yourself, this is my fault.” Lance said it all in a rush, and when he’d finished his head drooped until it rested on Katherine’s shoulder. 

They stood there for a few minutes and gradually the night air cooled Katherine’s temper. Her hand reached up to ruffle through Lance’s hair. The two of them were being dreadfully inappropriate, embracing each other in the darkness as they were, but Katherine couldn’t bring herself to care. 

“I’m sorry for shouting at you. You’re right, rushing in without a plan wouldn’t do anyone any good,” she said eventually, pulling back just enough to kiss his cheek. She allowed Lance to guide her back into the cave without another word, feeling somewhat sheepish as she meekly weaved her way through the outlaws she’d stormed past only ten minutes before. Luckily for her pride, these men were as gallant as they were courageous, and none of them made any sly or rude remark as she once again settled next to the fire. 

“Well, let’s have a story shall we?” Lance asked jovially, sitting next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

Katherine grinned. “Oh, how about the story of how you and Hunk met and became friends?” 

A chuckle rippled through the cave, Lance looked at his lady love wryly. 

“You know that one by heart. You just like it because it ends with me falling head-first into a river,” he accused. 

Keith, who’d approached their campfire for another bowl of Hunk’s soup, looked over at them. “I’m not familiar with this tale. I’d be more than happy to hear it,” he said, smirking even as Lance scowled and Hunk laughed. 

Katherine waved for him to sit down. “I’ll tell you. It happened four years ago when Lance was walking through the woods and came to a bridge…”


	9. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance AU Week 2018 - Day 5: Childhood

“Nose goes!” Nyma yelled. 

Lance touched his nose, looking around the group of neighborhood kids huddled by the playground jungle gym. Most of them did the same almost simultaneously. Hunk, who’d been tying his shoe, was the last to touch his nose. 

“That’s not fair, I wasn’t ready!” Hunk complained, straightening up. 

One of the older boys sneered, “You snooze, you lose. You’re it.” 

Hunk sighed and turned around, covering his eyes. “Fine, fine… One, two, three-”

Lance was off like a shot. He was the current hide n’ seek champion on the block, and he was determined to keep it that way. His eyes scanned the park, picking out possible hiding spots. The bathrooms were off limits, and so was climbing a tree. Most of the playground equipment provided no cover except for the castle, which is where Hunk would look first. 

Veering off to the left, Lance made for a clump of bushes near the edge of the park. There was a small gap, hidden unless you knew where to look, where a small person could wriggle in and hide. It would be a bit of a squeeze, seeing as he’d shot up two inches since his tenth birthday, but he figured he could make it. 

“-nineteen, TWENTY. READYORNOTHEREICOME!” Hunk’s yelled. Lance huffed and picked up the pace. He was still out of sight, but he needed cover now. 

He skidded to a stop before the shrubs, ducking down and pushing aside the branches as he crawled forward toward the little hollow in the middle. It wasn’t until he’d clambered his way there that he realized it was already occupied. 

A small girl, maybe six or seven, stared at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. Her face was smudged with dirt and her long brown hair had nearly escaped the two frazzled braids hanging down her shoulders. She bit her lip and curled into a ball, regarding him warily. 

“Uh… are you okay?” Lance asked, taking in her bedraggled appearance. 

A tremor ran through her body, and the bottom lip started to quiver. “I…” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m _lost!_ ” she wailed, bursting into tears. 

All thoughts of the game left his mind. Lance put an arm around her thin shoulders and gave a comforting squeeze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’ll help.”

He had to wait a few minutes for the girl to calm down. She curled into his side, grateful for any sort of contact, and he rubbed her back and softly sushed her. She wiped her nose on her shirt and looked up at him bleary-eyed. Every so often she hiccuped. 

“We just mo- _hic_ -moved here… and my big brother took me with him to the park. Matt was talking with someone, and I saw a doggy way over by the path so I went to p- _hic_ -et it, and her owner told me her name was Marly and that she was really nice and then they had to go home. And then I tried to find Matt but he was _gone!_ I looked and looked but I couldn’t find him and I got scared and hid in here.”

“Okay, okay, don’t cry,” Lance soothed; the girl looked on the verge of tears again. His mind raced as he realized he had no idea what to do. Call the police? Her brother was probably still in the park, so maybe Lance should help her look for him. 

He smacked his forehead so hard it stung. Duh, his mom! She was over by the fountain talking with some other ladies from the PTA. She’d know what to do.

“C'mon,” he urged, crawling out of the bushes. The girl scrambled to follow him. 

Lance regarded her once they were both out and in the sunlight. The poor thing looked tuckered out. “Want a piggyback ride?” he asked, crouching down. Smiling the tiniest smile, the girl climbed onto his back and hooked her arms around his neck. 

Grunting a bit as he stood - she was heavier than she looked - Lance started walking towards the fountain. 

“Where’re we going?” the girl asked after a minute. 

“My mom’s over there.” Lance pointed to the middle of the park. “She’ll help. I’m Lance by the way.” 

The girl awkwardly patted his shoulder. “’m Katie.”

“Do you remember where you were when you lost-” There was a sudden rush of footsteps, and then Hunk flailed out from behind a tree. 

“Gotcha!” he yelled, running forward to tackle Lance and barely managing to stop himself in time. He stared at the two of them. 

“This is Katie, she’s lost,” Lance said, “I’m taking her to my mom.”

“Oh.” Hunk shrugged as if it was normal for Lance to stumble across lost youngsters on a regular basis. “Want me to come with?” 

Lance shook his head. “Nah, unless you really want to.”

Nodding, Hunk jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Well, I found you anyway, I still gotta find Rax.” He waved to Katie, turned, and ran off. 

“My friends are playing hide and seek,” Lance explained as he resumed walking. “You said you moved. Is your house nearby?” He felt Katie nod. “Maybe you can play with us sometime.”

He gave her a brief description of his friends and the surrounding neighborhood as the fountain slowly came into view. Katie didn’t hold up her end of the conversation all that well, but his chatter seemed to calm her so he kept it up.

The fountain was a grand, sprawling thing with multiple jets and statue of a giant frog in the middle. It was set in a sort of clearing (the park could almost be considered a small wood with patches of open lawn), and off to one side were several picnic benches. One of them was occupied by a group of women. 

Lance slowed his pace as he approached. All the women were focused on two teenaged boys, both of whom had their backs to Lance, and one of them seemed to be asking something. A murmur arose when he stopped and the ladies turned to talk to each other, most of them shaking their heads. Lance finally saw his mother sitting on the very end of the bench, her brow furrowed in worry.

Lance’s mom caught sight of him and Katie, sat up straight, then pointed to him and said something he couldn’t make out. The two boys turned around. 

One of them Lance recognized easily enough. He was Keith’s older brother… Shiro? The other teen was half a head shorter, but his brown hair and eyes seemed strikingly similar to- 

“Matt!” Katie screeched, wiggling out of Lance’s hold and sprinting to her brother. Matt met her halfway, scooping her up. 

“Where have you been, Pidge?!” Matt demanded, his voice cracking in several places. 

Katie glared at him. “Where were _you_?” 

Lance sidled around the bickering siblings and wandered over to sit next to his mother. 

“How did you find her, mijo?” she asked, just loud enough to be heard over the argument. “Takashi and her brother looked all over the park before they asked us if we’d seen her.” 

Lance shrugged, “We were playing hide n’ seek. I found her in the bushes.”

“Little hero,” she praised, kissing his cheek. 

Lance made a show of wiping it off. “Eww, mooommm,” he whined. 

A shadow fell over the two of them and they looked up. Matt had Katie on one hip and they were both smiling at Lance. 

“Thank you so much for finding my sister,” Matt said. 

Lance shrugged again. He loved attention, but this was getting embarrassing. Katie leaned down to hug him, albeit awkwardly since she was basically horizontal. Lance hugged her back. “Thanks, Lance,” she murmured. 

Matt carried her away soon after, and Katie waved at Lance until she was out of sight.


	10. Glacier Spirits Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance AU Week 2018 - Day 6: Elements

When Lance poked his head out of the pile of furs he shared with his older brothers the windows were still dark and frosted over. The winter solstice was drawing near, so the South Pole was stuck in a state of semi-permanent darkness. 

The smell of seaweed noodles drifted in through the kitchen, urging him to get out of bed and get dressed. If he was up first, then his brothers would be the ones getting scolded for being lazy. 

His mother looked up from the bubbling pot and smiled as he shuffled in. “Good morning, how did you sleep? Were the extra blankets enough?” 

Lance shrugged and accepted a bowl before sitting down at the table. “I guess, Luis keeps stealing them,” he grumbled.

He head Grandmother laugh from somewhere behind him, then felt her cool, comforting hand ruffle his hair as she sat next to him. Her thick white locks were done up in two braids that hung heavy on her back. She was wearing an icy blue pendant carved with the symbol of the Southern Water Tribe along with the betrothal necklace Grandfather had given her long ago. 

“I’m sure you’ll sleep well enough once Marco gets married and you and Luis won’t have to compete for room so much,” she said. Lance sighed but didn’t argue. Grandmother was right about most things. 

He brought a spoonful up to his mouth and winced. The noodles were fine, but the broth was way too hot. His brows furrowed as he concentrated on the water within the broth. Lance raised a hand above the bowl and pinched his fingers together. Some of the broth floated into the air, froze into an ice cube, and plopped back into the broth. Grandmother pursed her lips as he twirled a finger, making the ice cube stir the broth and cool it down. She, like most of the elders, didn’t approve of using water bending (“the sacred art of our people, Lance”) for something as trivial as cooling noodle broth. 

“When you finish with breakfast go out and help your father. He’s getting all of the festival gear out of the shed,” his mother instructed, grinning as Lance noticeably perked up.

Lance _loved_ the Glacier Spirits Festival. Mundane duties like tanning hides and repairing nets were put on hold for an entire, blissful week and replaced with shows, carnivals, and feasts. Harbor City was transformed with colorful banners, amazing smells and wondrous sights as people bustled around setting up stalls and games in preparation. Every day something new was added, some new shipment from Republic City or the Northern Water Tribe arrived from the harbor and was put on display. 

He wouldn’t be able to enjoy it as fully as he had in the past - at seventeen he was deemed old enough to work the family stall selling his grandmother’s Five-flavor Soup and the arctic hens his father had caught to tourists - but his mother had promised him at least one full day to enjoy himself, the last day, when the best parts of the Festival happened. 

Lance slurped down his noodles as fast as he could. If he and his father got the stall set up quickly, he might get a few hours to himself before his first shift. Grandmother tsked and set about tying his hair up in a wolf tail. He grunted his thanks and kissed her cheek when she finished. 

Grandmother watched him don his fur overcoat. “Be safe, and don’t forget what this festival is really about!” 

Rolling his eyes, Lance raced for the door. Let the elders worry about their connection to the spirits, the festival was about having fun!

* * *

 

“Three silver pieces,” Lance said, trying to maintain a customer-friendly smile even as the woman in front of him scowled and slapped the money on the counter. 

He handed her the pair of roasted hens, which she snatched and hustled away with, muttering, “Ridiculous! Prices getting higher every festival.” Then, raising her voice a bit, “These are practically burnt!” 

Lance leaned over the counter and stuck his tongue out. He would have added an obscene gesture but Grandmother was working the stall with him tonight. 

He looked up and down the street, trying to pick out his brother in the multicolored lantern light. Luis was late, _again,_ for his shift. If he didn’t get here soon Lance would- 

“Excuse me? …Hello? Hello!” 

Blinking in surprise, Lance looked down. 

The girl was obviously a tourist. Her mousy brown hair, the lightest hair Lance had ever seen, was pulled up and back into a small bun held together by a green hairpiece. He could see the collar of a green tunic peaking out from beneath a blue fur cloak. Her eyes, sharp and eager, roamed over the stall’s wares. 

“A friend of mine said your family makes the best soup,” she explained, looking behind Lance to where the large pot was bubbling. Grandmother took notice and smiled, ladling up a bowl. 

“That’s high praise, I hope we can live up to it,” Grandmother said, handing the bowl to Lance.

“One silver piece,” he intoned, his gaze once again roaming the street for his brother. A flash of light caught the corner of his eye and he looked at the girl. She was wearing gold earrings. Most of the tourists that came for the festival were wealthy, but not that wealthy. 

She handed him the coin and accepted her bowl. Instead of leaving right away, she lingered, stirring the soup with a spoon before tasting. Her eyes lit up and she took a bigger gulp. “I’ll have to tell Hunk he was right!” she exclaimed. “This is good!” 

“Wait, you know Hunk?!” Lance yelped his attention firmly on her now. 

The girl stared at him. “I… are we talking about the same Hunk?” 

“From Kyoshi Island?” 

“Yes!” The soup sloshed around dangerously in her bowl as she threw her hands into the air with excitement. 

Lance eyed the jade bracelets on her arm. “How does someone like you know Hunk?” he asked. 

The girl frowned. “What do you mean, someone like me?” 

Snorting, Lance gestured to her hairpiece - which, yes, was also carved from jade - to her earrings and bracelets. “Are you kidding? You’re a pick-pocket’s dream come true. Hunk’s the governor’s son, and his family doesn’t have that kind of money.” He twirled a finger in the air. “You’re obviously a few social circles above us.” 

“That obvious, huh?” 

Her gaze flickered to her left, paused, and without so much as a by-your-leave, she leaped over the counter. Lance stumbled back in shock, spluttering. 

“Hey! What are you-?!” 

“Shut up!” she hissed, crouching down until only the top of her head was visible. “Just act like I’m not here!” 

Two more customers walked up, and after a few moments of helplessly looking from the scowling girl to his placid grandmother, Lance shrugged and went back to work. 

Just as he finished with the transaction an absolute giant of a man barged down the street, almost bowling over one of the customers. He was wearing a brown cloak and as he rounded the corner - everyone on the street was giving him a wide berth - Lance saw the Earth Kingdom insignia stamped in gold on the back of it.

“Jealous boyfriend?” Lance whispered as the girl tentatively peeked over the counter.

She made a face and punched his shoulder, straightening up once the man was completely out of sight. “Ew, no! He’s just my bodyguard.” 

Lance placed a hand on his hip and mocked, “Oh, of course, how silly of me. Just your bodyguard indeed, Little Miss Ba Sing Se.” 

Grandmother whacked him with a spoon. “I know I taught you to treat ladies with respect!” she hissed. 

There was a flurry of movement and the stall got even more crowded as Luis finally arrived, his cheeks red and eyes glowing with excitement. 

“There’s a thief on the loose! I heard it from the men by the fountain. He’s been all over the carnival, he’s using water bending to cut people’s purses. The guards think he’s headed this way!” Luis said it all in a rush, still panting from his run. 

Grandmother pursed her lips and looked at Lance sternly. “You’d better keep your wits about you. Avoid the backstreets. And don’t try to play the hero if it comes to it, I’d rather you lose a few coins than getting mugged.” 

“Grandmother!” Lance protested, already taking off his apron and giving it to Luis. “I can take care of myself.” 

Luis finally noticed the girl. “Who’s this?” he asked. 

“Pidge,” the girl said quickly, interrupting Lance’s reply. She followed Lance out of the stall, looking over her shoulder from time to time. They walked down the street for a while, glancing at stalls and stopping once to watch a water bender creating ice sculptures. 

The girl, Pidge, didn’t seem in a hurry to wander off, so Lance finally asked, “You never answered my question, how do you know Hunk? I’m Lance, by the way.”

“My family is establishing trade on Kyoshi Island,” Pidge answered, her eyes wandering to a cotton candy stand. She watched the vendor swirl around the machine to collect the pink fluff. 

Lance untied his coin-purse from his belt and checked how much money he had. Satisfied he had enough for the two of them, he pointed toward the stand. 

“Want some?” 

Pidge nodded eagerly, grabbing his arm with a mittened hand and pulling him along. The vendor gave them each a stick, but just as Lance was about to pay Pidge pushed him aside and dropped a gold piece into the man’s hand. He bowed low and offered her a second stick which Pidge graciously accepted.

“I can pay,” Lance grumbled, stuffing a wad of cotton candy into his mouth.   
Pidge batted her eyelashes. “Yeah, but I don’t have to check my purse to make sure I have enough money,” she replied her voice sugary sweet. 

Lance gasped, thoroughly offended. 

* * *

 

They wandered over to the main square. Two fire-bending brothers were performing next to the fountain. They used different powders to send up blue, green, and purple flames to the delight of the audience. When the older brother sent up a spurt of lightning the crowd went nuts, and Lance and Pidge were jostled until they could no longer see the performance clearly. 

Lance shrugged and lightly tugged at Pidge’s coat. “C'mon, there’s an ice skating rink nearby.” 

Pidge bit her lip. “I’ve never ice skated.” 

“I’ll teach you.”

* * *

 

Teaching Pidge how to balance was hilarious.

“It’s all about finding the right stance,” Lance coaxed, circling around the wobbly Pidge. “Aren’t you Earth Kingdom Citizens famous for being grounded?” 

Pidge glowered at him. “Yeah, when we have actual earth to work with!” she shouted, her voice rising to a squeal as she slipped and nearly landed facefirst onto the ice. Lance caught her just in time and once she was upright again he held both of her hands. He skated backward, pulling her along with him.

* * *

 

Pidge got the hang of it, eventually. Afterward, they decided to go back to the cotton candy stand. 

The streets were only getting more congested as the night wore on. More than once Pidge had to cling to the back of Lance’s coat to avoid being separated. 

Lance spotted an alley and pointed. “Hey, here’s a shortcut.” 

The hush that fell on them once they entered was somewhat unnerving. Lance glanced back every so often and saw Pidge’s pale brown eyes staring back. 

The alley twisted so much that Lance could never see more than ten feet in front of him. It didn’t help that the path branched off in several places and was riddled with icy patches that caused even him to skid once or twice. 

“Are we lost?” Pidge asked, blunt and annoyed after five minutes. They could still hear the crowd, but it was muted and distorted. 

Lance stopped at another fork in the path. Left or right? 

…Right? 

“No, we’re not!” Lance scoffed, going down the right alleyway. 

Two more turns, then a dead end. 

Pidge punched his shoulder. 

“Ow! We’re not totally lost, okay? I just messed up that last turn,” Lance grumbled, rubbing his arm. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Little Miss Ba Sing-” 

“Look out!” 

Pidge shoved him to the side just as an ice spike whizzed past the spot Lance’s head had been, shattering against the wall.

A man was blocking their exit. He was wearing a dark cloak and had covered the lower half of his face with a ragged bandana. He pulled up two more ice spikes. 

“Nice reflexes. Hand over your money and no one has to get hurt,” the thief rumbled. 

“Pidge, stay behind me,” Lance whispered, trying to push Pidge behind him. But Pidge wasn’t there.

Dashing forward, her hand shot out, something flashed in the dim light, and the thief yelled as one of his arms was pinned to the side of the alley by a thin strip of metal. Lance gawked as Pidge sent three more metal bands at the thief, securing his other arm and both legs. 

Once she was satisfied he wasn't going anywhere, Pidge nodded and told the thief, “Why don’t you hang around for a bit? We’ll let the guards know where you are… eventually.” 

She grabbed Lance’s hand and led him back the way they’d come. The thief stared at her as they passed, eyes wide with fright. 

Lance couldn’t speak until they reached the fork in the road.

“You’re a metal bender?!” he squeaked. 

Pidge grinned at him. “Not bad for Little Miss Ba Sing Se, huh? Now hurry up, I want cotton candy.”


	11. Mononoke Hime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance AU Week 2018 - Day 7: Ghibli!

_I can’t complain,_ Katie thought, grunting as she pushed down on the giant bellows. It was hot work, hard work, but the relentlessness of it kept her from thinking too much. Every so often she caught the other girls looking at her, and their pity-filled eyes made her want to scream.

_I have a good life. Better than I could have hoped for._

Just focus on the bellows. Up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, _I can’t complain, I can’t complain, I can’t complain…_

* * *

 

Her story had a typical beginning. She was the second child in a merchant family. Her mother had owned a small shop that made ends meet while her father and older brother traveled the country selling wares. They weren’t rich, but they had enough to eat and a good roof over their heads, which was more than many people could say.

Then the wars had broken out soon after she turned fourteen when most of the daimyos realized the emperor was too old to keep them in line. Her brother and father had gone missing during one of their trips. Katie knew, rationally, that they’d probably been slaughtered on the road, but a small part of her kept hoping.

The loss of her husband crushed her mother. After a riot destroyed most of the market district, along with the shop and all of their remaining goods, the two were forced to move into the slums. Katie tried her best for her despondent mother, taking odd jobs when she could - begging when she couldn’t, as much as it hurt her pride - to buy food and, later, medicine.

Her mother died of consumption within three months.

The landlord kicked her out as soon as he could, leaving Katie with nothing. All the money she’d saved had gone to her mother’s funeral, and any friends of the family had fled to safer regions a long time ago.

After a few miserable weeks on the street, she found herself standing in front of the one place girls like her could find a job. It was one of the worst brothels in town, but she’d already tried the nicer ones and been turned away. Apparently, she was too skinny and too ugly.

That particular day would always stand out in her mind; the smell of cheap perfume and cheaper wine seeping through the brothel doors, the leering men who watched her from the steps, her bare feet benumbed by the winter wind, and the young women she could see through the windows with their ragged kimonos and painted faces.  

Katie stayed where she was for a long time, allowing people to jostle past her without protest. She couldn’t take that first step into the courtyard.

She never had to. As she stood there, a ripple in the crowd caught her attention. People were making way for someone, a lady, and her attendants. Katie stared at the woman as she passed. Her silvery grey hair was tied up in a bun fastened by ornate gold pins. She was wearing sumptuous red and black robes that carried the scent of iron and smoke. One of the attendants held an umbrella over her head to guard her against the rain that had just begun to fall.

The lady stopped in front of the brothel, whispered something to the other attendant, then swept up the steps and entered. A small crowd gathered around the gate, watching and waiting.

Not ten minutes later the woman emerged. In her hands, she held a stack of papers, and her entourage had increased by tenfold. The whispers grew into a dull roar of disbelief as all the brothel girls followed her like so many ducklings. Katie stepped to the side as she approached the gate, bowing respectfully.

When she looked up, the lady’s strange golden eyes were fixed on her.

“Do you want a job?” the woman asked, the acerbity of her tone piercing through the fog of grief and starvation that had settled over Katie’s mind.

Katie nodded.

“It’s brutal work, and the hours are awful. However, I can promise you’ll always have enough to eat, and you won’t have to answer to any man unless you wish to.”

Tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, Katie bowed again. “Thank you so much,” she rasped, “Thank you, Lady…”

“Honerva will do.”

* * *

 

Katie heard Axca murmur, “Did she eat lunch?”

She hadn’t. The news - Gods, how could her life get turned upside down with a single sentence? - had knocked all thoughts of eating out of her head. She was too numb to care.

* * *

 

Lady Honerva, or the Lady of Irontown as she was better known, was as good as her word. Once again provided with the basic comforts of life, Katie grew strong enough to work in the forge. The other women welcomed her with open arms, teaching her how to manage the bellows and wield a naginata with deadly precision. Lady Honerva herself regularly held rifle lessons. Katie soon became a better shot than most of the men.

Her life quickly fell into a routine of work and play that lasted for three years. Irontown was wealthy and became even wealthier when Lady Honerva drove out the boar god protecting the surrounding forest, allowing the miners to start cutting down trees and mine into the mountains. As Irontown grew, more and more refugees came seeking work. Most of them were former prostitutes and escaped slaves or men who had been kicked out of their homes by samurai.

There weren’t many children in the town. The men and women lived their lives separately for the most part, excepting the late night dalliances and relationships that never lasted for more than a week or two. Katie didn’t really care one way or another, the status quo was comfortable.

* * *

 

Katie quickly wiped her palms on her kimono before once again grabbing the rope handle.

Sweat dripped from her bangs and mingled with her tears.

* * *

 

Katie hadn’t known he existed until he walked up to her one day. She’d been chopping wood for the forges when a shadow fell across her and she looked up.

Tall and lanky, the boy towered over her by a good foot or so. Eyeing him critically, Katie’s gaze lingered on his broad shoulders and dark blue eyes. She would admit that he was handsome in a rustic sort of way.

Then he opened his mouth.

“Hey, the name’s Lance.” He winked at her.

Katie hefted the axe she was holding and glared.

Lance got the point.

His retreat didn’t last long though, much to her initial chagrin. He started leaving flowers and sweets on her doorstep. Whenever she was struggling with a load of firewood he appeared out of thin air to help. He was brave enough to withstand her half-hearted threats of evisceration and castration. It was enough to get her to talk to him a bit, and she was pleasantly surprised to find a kind and earnest man under all his smugness and snark.

Lance was from humbler stock, a farm boy who’d been separated from his family after bandits burned down his village. Lady Honerva hired him as one of the ox-drivers that transported iron to neighboring towns and brought supplies back. He was good with animals and took to his work well.

It wasn’t until she started missing his company during those long trips that Katie realized how much trouble she was in. Obviously, it was Lance’s fault. He was too damn likable.

He was so likable that she gave him her first kiss.

After that, he became absolutely lovable.

When she told the other girls a year later that she wanted to marry him, their reactions were… mixed.

“That’s wonderful!” Shay gasped, pulling her in for a hug.

Ezor shook her head. “He’s sweet now, but once you tie the knot he’ll act like the rest of them,” was her grim prediction. Zethrid put an arm around her and laughed it off.

“Whatever, if he does Katie can take care of him!”

As it turned out, Katie and Lance’s relationship only changed for the better after they married. The men teased him sometimes, said that Katie was the one who wore the pants around the house, but Lance would always wave them away. Sure, Katie’s tongue was sharp enough to cut through iron, but in private she lavished her husband with a sweetness only he was privy to. In return, he provided her with the comfort and security she needed to let her guard down. They were disgustingly happy.

* * *

 

“Time to trade off!”

Katie relinquished her hold on the rope and stepped back as another woman took her place. She collapsed onto a nearby mat.

* * *

 

The times got tougher. More wars, more death. Irontown was a prize to be taken in the eyes of the local daimyo. The blacksmiths started building canons and mounting them on the walls in preparation.

Worse still, the demons were back.

Katie spent some of her shifts on the walls rather than in the forge. She shot into the hills, scaring off the apes that tried to replant the trees.

Rumor spread of a giant black lion god and her four, no, _five_ bloodthirsty cubs. Travelers were being picked off on the road. Going through the forest itself was suicide.

When they started attacking the mining camps, Lady Honerva took action. She and her riflemen started patrolling the hillside and guarding the oxen as they traveled to and from Irontown.

It still wasn’t enough to save Lance from the lions. The men who made it back said he was thrown off the cliff and into the river.

* * *

 

Katie’s head was resting on Shay’s leg, and the older girl was cooling both of them off with a paper fan. She’d almost dozed off when a loud commotion just outside the forge roused her. Sitting up, she listened as men shouted and ran past.

“Lance is alive!”

“Two of the men made it!”

Gasping for breath, Katie stumbled to her feet.

_Lance- Lance was-_

“Go!” Axca urged.

Katie glanced at the bellows. There weren’t many rules in Irontown, but the biggest one was all-important: the fires must stay lit.

“You can make it up tonight, hurry!” Zethrid yelled, shoving her out the door.

Once she started running she couldn’t stop. People made way for her, they had no choice. As she sped through the square she caught snippets of conversations.

“Coming across the lake-”

“-a stranger saved them.”

“I heard they went through the forest!”

The crowd was thick as she neared the gates, but her elbows were pointy and she had no qualms using them. She shoved her way to the front of the crowd, past the gate, then she was running down the slope to the pier.

Lady Honerva’s men were gathered around one of the boats, she saw them carrying a wounded rifleman. Next to them, Sendak was interrogating a tall hooded and caped stranger. And there, by the boat…

“Lance!” she screamed. “Lance! You’re alive!”

Lance’s battered and bruised face lit up when he saw her. Katie skidded to a halt in front of him, looking him over. Aside from the cuts littering his body, his right arm and leg were broken. _Probably landed on them when he fell_ , she thought, trying to curb her hysterics.

Relief and the residue of overwhelming grief sloshed together in her chest and left her feeling nothing but anger.

“Well, this is great!” she yelled sarcastically. “How are you supposed to drive the oxen all banged up and mangled?”

Lance’s face fell. “My little pigeon-” he whined.

Katie interrupted him. “You scared me half to death, you bastard! Don’t you "little pigeon” me! I wish the lions had eaten you, then I could find a real husband,“ she hissed. The men gathered around them started laughing.

Lip wobbling, Lance muttered, "Babe, can we please talk about this later?”

“Katie, save you sweet nothings for later,” Sendak barked, annoyed at being interrupted.

Katie turned on him because yelling at Lady Honerva’s captain was preferable to owning up to her mess of emotions right now. “Well, aren’t you a fine captain of the guard - strutting and throwing your weight around once the danger’s _over_. You never do a lick of work around here!”

Sendak spluttered, but Katie ignored him and looked at the stranger. He was very tall, and completely hidden save for his strange grey eyes and a tuft of white hair. “Thank you,” she said, allowing relief to seep into her tone. “My husband’s an idiot, but I’m glad he’s safe.”

She heard Lance’s “aww, you do care” and ignored him too.

The stranger’s smile was evident in his voice. “That’s a relief, I thought for a minute I’d made a mistake bringing him back,” he replied. They both chuckled.

“Sendak,” a cool voice called down from the gate. Everyone looked up to see Lady Honerva standing on the bridge. “Bring the stranger to me later, I wish to thank him personally.” Her gaze shifted to Lance. “Lance, I’m glad you’re back and I apologize.”

Lance blushed and nodded.

Katie folded her arms. “Watch out m'lady, keep sweet-talking him and his head will get too big for his neck.”

She froze as she always did when Honerva looked her in the eye. “I hope you’ll forgive me too, Katie. His safety was my responsibility, I never should have let it happen.”

“It’s alright m'lady. If _you_ hadn’t been there,” she side-eyed Sendak so hard, “the lions would have eaten all of ‘em and we’d all have to find new husbands.”

The women gathered around Lady Honerva laughed.

* * *

 

“If you do this to me again I’ll kill you,” Katie murmured, but there was no bite in it. She gently brushed Lance’s hair away from his forehead and dabbed at a small cut. Lance took it all without complaint. Once she’d gotten him resting comfortably in their bed he’d fallen into an exhausted stupor.

A kiss on his uninjured cheek got a small smile out of him. “Sorry,” he yawned. “But in my defense, it’s not like I planned it.”

“I’m gonna rip the next lion I see to pieces,” Katie promised vengefully. Lance chuckled.

Katie would feed him some soup and cuddle up with him until he fell asleep. Then she’d ask one of his friends to look after him while she was in the forge. The fires had to stay lit.


	12. "Charming" Suits You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plance AU Week 2018 - Day 8: Free Day

The forest bordering the countries of Altea and Baku was ancient, older than both countries combined. The trees at the very heart of the forest were gigantic with the roots spanning literal miles. Because of its denseness, few roads had been made through it, and most had been swallowed by time. One of them, aptly called the Wandering Lane, was nearly overgrown, but it was still wide enough to accommodate a cart or, in this case, a carriage. 

A doe grazing near the path looked up as a pristine white carriage bearing the seal of Altea drove by, accompanied by six guards on horseback. Inside, Prince Lance of Altea watched as the deer flicked her ears and disappeared into the trees.

The Wandering Lane had the prettiest view, in Lance’s humble opinion, which is why he’d chosen to take this route with his fiancee back to her castle. After all, she ought to see the best of what his kingdom had to offer. 

Lance regarded her wryly as she sat across from him. Queen Luxia of Baku was certainly beautiful with her shimmering blonde hair, flawless complexion, and placid blue eyes. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, Lance might have easily been besotted with her. As it was, it was all he could do to keep up a polite conversation. 

“What do you think of the view, my dear?” he asked, putting on the smile he used for political meetings.   
  


Luxia barely glanced the carriage window. “I’ve seen better,” she replied shortly. Her fan flicked open and she began to cool herself off. Lance barely kept the smile from becoming a grimace. 

He’d known from a young age that he would have little say in who he married. As a prince and the younger sibling, his greatest contribution to his country would be what he could bring to the marriage bed. 

Now, with the threat of the Galra Empire looming ever nearer, it was clear that Altea needed allies. Arus and Baku had been the most obvious choices. Both Lance and his sister/future queen, Allura, had dutifully resigned themselves when their father announced their engagements

Unlike Allura, who genuinely liked the King of Arus, it was common knowledge among court gossips that Lance had absolutely no interest in his future bride. 

“This is taking forever,” Luxia complained, and Lance resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I told you the main road would have been quicker.” A large bump in the road made her grimace. “And far less bumpy.” 

Lance glanced down at the black leather satchel in his hands. His father had given it to him before he left, and it was meant to be a parting gift for Luxia. Inside were several jewels and necklaces from the royal treasury, each one worth a king’s ransom, along with… along with his mother’s ring. The thought of handing it over to Luxia set Lance’s teeth on edge.

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Lance looked up quickly. “Yes, of course, I am.” He flashed a grin, but Luxia wasn’t fooled. She looked ready to scold him to the underworld and back when the carriage suddenly came to a stop. 

Grateful for a reprieve, Lance hopped out of the carriage to see what was causing the delay. He left the satchel on the seat. 

“Now what?” he heard Luxia snap from the carriage. 

Lance called back, “Worry not, it’s but a fallen tree!” as he donned his gloves and approached the tree that was blocking the path. All of the guards dismounted to help move it out of the way. 

Unbeknownst to him, a cloaked figure was watching from high above in one of the trees. 

Walking over to one end of the tree, Lance examined the trunk. 

The hooded figure leaped from the tree onto the top of the carriage. Luxia gasped when the carriage rocked back and forth. 

“My lord? What is it?” one of the guards asked, noticing the prince’s furrowed brow. 

Lance ran a hand over the pale wood.  “These markings…” 

If the tree had been knocked over by a storm, then the entire thing would have been uprooted. A lightning strike would have left the wood charred and blackened, and sickness wasn’t an option because there was no sign of rot. 

This trunk tapered off into a manmade point. The tree had been deliberately cut down less than a day ago. 

“This is an ambush,” he hissed. 

“Guards! Help! Help! Stop, thief!” Luxia screamed.

The men whipped around just in time to see a cloaked figure jump out of the carriage, mount one of the guard’s horses, and ride off down the path. The leather satchel gleamed in the sun from where it was hung over the thief’s shoulder. 

Lance grabbed one of the other horses, the guards assisting him in mounting. With a click of his tongue and a nudge of his boots, the charger was off. The thief had a head start, but Lance was the better horseman. After a few twists and turns, he’d pulled ahead and was riding alongside the cowled man. With a yell he flung himself at the thief, throwing them both off their horses and tumbling onto the grass. 

The thief kicked at him wildly in an attempt to scramble away, but Lance pinned his shoulder to the ground. “Show your face, you coward,” he growled, ripping the hood back and getting ready to sock the wily bastard right in the- 

Lance leaned back on his heels. Angry brown eyes regarded him scornfully beneath heavy bangs. Long chestnut hair flowed onto the grass, framing those captivating eyes along with a button nose and pert mouth. 

“You’re a… girl,” he breathed, lowering his fist.

The maiden smirked at him, one hand closing over a rock. “Woman,” she replied before swinging up as hard as she could and hitting him right in the jaw. Lance grunted, bowling over and hitting the ground again. By the time he’d cleared the stars from his eyes the thief had remounted and was riding away. 

Blood dripping down his chin, Lance staggered to his feet and yelled after her. 

“You can’t hide from me! Wherever you are, _I will find you!_ ” 

He caught one more glimpse of those eyes, merry and twinkling now, as she looked over her shoulder. Then she rounded a bend and was lost from sight.   
Lance dabbed at the cut on his chin and winced. The pretty thief had a good arm. Maybe he’d bring it up when he caught her. 

Lance didn’t make empty threats. He _would_ find her.


	13. Athazagoraphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance whump with a side of Langst/Plangst.

Lance felt the ground beneath him shudder, another aftershock echoed throughout the canyon. Loose gravel and larger rocks clattered around him, their noise only adding to his splitting headache. Something viscous and wet dripped into his eyelashes and he used his free hand to wipe at it. It was blood. He gingerly touched the gash in his forehead and winced. 

When the ground stopped shaking he tried to sit up, fighting against the mountain of rubble and sand piled on top of him was impossible to escape from when he could only move his head and one arm. It felt like a large chunk of rock was trapping his legs, and when he tried to push against it a throbbing pain lashed it’s way through his body, starting at his right knee and traveling up his spine. 

“Chingada Madre!” he hissed, fighting back tears. Forcing himself to take a few deep breaths through his nose, he evaluated the situation. He was trapped underneath a pile of rubble with no hope of freeing himself on a strange planet that was currently undergoing the most intense earthquakes Lance had ever witnessed aside from that fiasco on Naxzela. 

He tried to contact the team one more time. 

“Guys? …Guys, it’s Lance. I need help ASAP.” 

The speaker in his helmet was silent. Another rumble. More sand and rock tumbled dangerously close to his head. 

“Hunk? Shiro? Coran, c'mon!” 

Nothing.

“Princess? …Pidge?” 

It was getting harder to breathe. He felt lightheaded. 

“Anyone…?” 

The silence rattled his skull. Sighing, he clawed at the rubble covering his chest. If he could just get his other arm free… 

It took a few minutes but eventually, he was able to wrench his right arm up and out of the purplish-grey sand and pebbles. His elbow twinged whenever he bent it, but it was bearable. Bracing himself with both arms, he attempted to sit up and- 

Holy. Crow. 

That was a mistake. 

Lance couldn’t even scream. Splashes of color danced across his vision as the movent excited a pain so intense it punched him in the gut, leaving him a gasping, wheezing mess. His arms gave out and he fell back to the ground with a dull thud that was just as painful. So painful that he could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. He didn’t try to fight it. 

Was anyone looking for him? 

* * *

 

“Is anyone hurt?” Shiro called, inspecting the village for signs of trouble.   
Pidge poked her head out of one of the low, stone buildings. When the first earthquake hit, one of the Pluumoanites had dragged her inside, telling her it was safer indoors. Now, as Pidge stepped back outside, she couldn’t see any signs of damage on any of the houses. 

Allura emerged from another hut, her hair somewhat frazzled. “I believe everyone is all right, but I must say-” she paused for a moment to sweep her long hair into a bun “-I knew Pluumoa was famous for its earthquakes, I just didn’t think they would be so intense.” 

Pidge could only nod in agreement. Even though they’d been safe, the force of the tremors still left her knees feeling like jelly. 

One of the village elders nodded sagely. “Indeed. Luckily for our people, we have long since learned how to withstand them,” he intoned, patting the wall of the nearest house with some pride. 

Shiro’s reply was cut off when their comms crackled to life. 

_“Our scanners just reported a large earthquake in your area, are you all alright?”_ Coran asked. Pidge’s eyes flickered up to Plummoa’s atmosphere, where a faint speck on the horizon denoted the Castle of Lions floating above them. 

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing Hunk isn’t here, he’d have tossed his cookies all over some poor Pluumoanite’s floor,” Pidge snickered. 

_“Hey!”_ Hunk protested. _“Is this the thanks I get for staying behind to tune up the lions while you get to try out the local cuisine? How is it, by the way?”_

Pidge glanced around to make sure none of the Pluumoanites were within earshot. “Not as good as yours, but some of the spices are really interesting. I’ll try to bring some,” she whispered. 

Another unexpected quake sent her floundering to her knees. She vaguely felt Allura reach out to grip her shoulder, but everything was shaking so much it didn’t really register. 

_“Ah, there goes another one,”_ Coran commented when the shaking finally died down. _“And our scans indicate more on the way. I suggest you wrap up your negotiations quickly, Princess-”_

_“Guys!”_ Hunk’s voice cut through, sharp and urgent. _“Something’s wrong with Red, he’s all antsy. Wait, no, Red-!”_ The sound of thrusters firing up echoed through the comms. _“…He left.”_

_“Red’s heading for Pluumoa,”_ Coran said, anticipating their next question as he was apt to do. 

Why would Red-? Pidge scanned the crowd again. 

“Wait… Where’s Lance?!” 

One of the smaller Pluumoanites pointed to a small canyon about a mile or so from the village. “The one in blue? Perhaps he left for caves of crystals that reside in the gorge. We were speaking of them and he seemed most interested to see.”

The folds on the elder’s face crinkled into a frown. “That place is dangerous during earthquakes. Did he go alone?” 

The younger one bobbed his head.

Pidge tapped into her bond with Green and asked her to follow Red. Green’s approving reply rumbled through Pidge’s chest. Echoes of similar commands from Allura and Shiro reached her. 

“Dammit, Lance.”

* * *

 

_Wake up._

Lance whined and tried to roll over. His blanket was too heavy, he couldn’t move. 

_Wake up._

Cinco minutos más, mamá, por favor. 

_Wake up!_

Ow… it hurt. Everything… everything… He was thirsty. Where…? He usually left a glass of water on his nightstand, where was it? His hand brushed over something rough and gritty. 

_Wake UP, my Paladin!_

A strange, familiar tugging at his mind and soul. Too sharp to be Blue’s gentle touch. Insistent. Scared. Determined. The fleeting image of a young man - Altean? - with white hair and laughing blue eyes. 

Lance gave up trying to go back to sleep and cracked open an eyelid. A giant, glowing mechanical eye glared down, bathing him and the pile of rubble in a pool of golden light. Red growled and Lance was privy to all of his lion’s ire and disapproval through their new(ish) bond. 

“You’re a lot meaner than Blue,” Lance croaked, earning a harsher growl. 

Lifting a giant paw, Red swiped most of the rubble to one side, and the crushing pressure on Lance’s chest and legs eased - a big improvement. On the other hand, the movement also upset the boulder trapping his leg, and Lance bit his hand to avoid howling. Worry and remorse washed over his psyche. Red crooned his sympathy as best he could. 

The shadow of a nudge against his mind, sharp and bright, and Lance managed to open both of his eyes in time to see the Green Lion land nearby. He squinted as the wind from its thrusters blew a cloud of dust into his face. Red curled a paw around his Paladin, shielding Lance as best he could. 

Rapid, determined footsteps. 

Lance closed his eyes, wanted so badly to sleep. He would know those footsteps anywhere, and he didn’t want a lecture right now. 

* * *

 

Green’s presence curled around Pidge’s thoughts, urging her to stay calm. Easy enough in theory, harder in practice when one of her teammates was _buried beneath an avalanche._

Pidge checked Green’s scanners again. There was another earthquake on the way, bigger than the others. They had less than ten doboshes to get Lance out of there. 

Faster, faster, please! Pidge couldn’t help tapping her foot waiting for Green to open the ramp. She hopped out, not waiting for it to lower fully. Now on the ground, she couldn’t make out Lance’s blue and white armor. 

Red’s golden gaze fell on her as she approached, lifting his paw and leaning back to give her room. 

“Lance!” she gasped, sliding to a halt next to his still form. His helmet was nearly cracked in half, the rim digging into his forehead hard enough to draw far too much blood. She traced the fracture to the side of his helmet, where his comm was, for all intents and purposes, split in half. 

“At least it wasn’t your thick head,” she murmured, trying her best to remove the helmet. Lance whimpered and bit his lip, but otherwise did nothing to stop her. Pidge cradled the back of his head with a hand and looked him over. 

His upper body seemed mostly fine, save for the gash on his forehead, but his legs… Pidge pawed at the rubble, doing her best to dig Lance’s legs out. A large boulder soon got in her way, too big for her to move. 

“Please… don’t try to move it.” 

Pidge spun around just in time to see Lance’s eyes flicker open. Off in her periphery, she heard the Blue and Black lions landing close by.   
Lance hummed in appreciation when Pidge leaned over him, blocking out Pluumoa’s orange sun in the process. His gratitude only appeared to deepen when Pidge brushed her knuckles against his cheek in a comforting manner, as he cracked a smile. 

Pidge tilted her head. Something between exasperation and overwhelming fondness swelled inside her, smothering everything except: “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

His smile vanished. Pidge pursed her lips, unsure of how to get it back. 

Shiro and Allura arrived, and Pidge had to back up to give them room to inspect Lance. A quick conversation later and Allura lifted the boulder just enough for Shiro to pull Lance out of the rubble. The jostling this caused turned Lance’s skin a sickly green and he fainted from the pain. His teammates hissed at the cracked, ruined state of his leg guards. 

Allura pushed back Lance’s bangs with a gentle sweep of her fingers. “Perhaps it’s just as well if he stays unconscious until we get him in a healing pod.” 

_“Princess! Another earthquake in two doboshes!”_ Coran barked. 

Shiro scooped Lance up. Pidge waited until they’d safely entered the Black lion before boarding Green. 

* * *

 

The whispery hiss of a healing pod opening was becoming all too familiar to Lance. 

Still, waking up in Hunk’s cuddly embrace was always nice. Especially when Hunk gave him a rib-cracking hug that let Lance know he was alive and well.   
Coran pounced on him next, lecturing him for wandering off on his own as he poked and prodded Lance’s legs to ensure they had completely recovered. 

Pidge watched him from the corner, her eyes hooded and expression stony. 

As soon as Coran pronounced him fit, she bolted out of the room. 

The memory of her hovering over him, anxious and lovely, tied Lance’s stomach into a double knot. 

_You’re an idiot, you know that?  
_

Lance sucked in a huge gulp of air and released it oh so slowly.


	14. Hidden Cove - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love mer! AUs, I had to continue it.

“This is a bad idea. I don’t think I can stress enough just how _bad_ of an idea this is-” 

Lance spun around, smacking Hunk’s arm with his tail. Hunk yelped and clutched his arm. “It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, and we’re only going to get caught if you keep talking!” Lance hissed. 

Hunk pouted but said nothing as Lance pushed them both behind a rocky outcropping. Lance peeked over the edge, watching the entrance of Allura’s cave for signs of life. The clan matriarch usually spent the afternoon patrolling the borders of their territory, but there was always the possibility that she might delegate that responsibility to someone else or return sooner than expected. 

Five minutes passed, Hunk began grumbling again. 

Lance adjusted the strap of his bag more comfortably on his shoulder and nudged Hunk. “Okay, you keep watch and let me know if anyone’s coming.” 

“How do I let you know? What’s the signal?” 

“A whale call.” 

Hunk grabbed Lance’s fin. “What kind of whale?” 

“Orca,” Lance snapped, throwing up his arms. 

“But I’m better at humpback- Hey, hey, wait!” 

Lance streaked toward the cave. He couldn’t waste another minute. 

Allura had strung small shells together with seaweed, creating a pearly white curtain over the entrance to her home. Lance brushed it aside. The cave was dark, lacking the glowing crystals most mers adorned their homes with. Allura, along with being a potent magic user, was also phosphorescent. No need for glowing crystals when one was a living lantern.

Speaking of magic… Lance weaved his way past Allura’s hammock, searching for the ingredients he knew she kept hidden in the back. A plastic human container - or “water cooler”, as Pidge called it - caught his eye and he popped the lid open. It was packed with jars and bundles wrapped in seaweed. 

Lionfish spines… deep sea kelp… squid ink… shark teeth… It took longer than Lance would have liked to identify and stow each prize into his bag. Luckily, he didn’t need much. All the other ingredients could be found easily enough. He took extra care to place everything back where he’d found it before shutting the cooler. 

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re up to?” Hunk asked once they were far, far away.

Lance flipped so he could look at the pale, watery sunlight above them. The jar full of squid ink thumped against his stomach through the bag. 

“Mmm… probably not. You wouldn’t like it,” he admitted. 

Lionfish spines… deep sea kelp… squid ink… shark teeth…

Once upon a time, humans and mers had lived side by side. Humans respected the ocean and mers shared their magic. Together the two races had built a city, Atlantis, as a symbol of their union, and like their union, it had been destroyed all too quickly. 

Lance had never been a fan of ancient history, but there was one part of the story that he was interested in. The mers of Atlantis had discovered, so it was said, potions that turned humans into mers, and mers into humans. It was considered a mere legend by most, a myth added by mothers and clan elders to embellish their tales. 

But what if it was true? Lance needed it to be true. 

* * *

 

Pidge was halfway out the door when Matt caught her by the back of her shirt. “Where are you going?” he asked, dodging her swipes. He lost his grip on her when she twisted around and nearly bit his fingers. 

“To the beach. Why?” Pidge grumbled. 

Matt shrugged and sauntered back into the living room. “Just want to know where you’ll be. I’m technically the babysitter, after all.” 

Pidge stuck her tongue out and ran outside. 

It was hot, not a single cloud in sight to blot out the midday sun. Barefoot, Pidge ran across the blistering sand as fast as she could until she’s reached the edge of the water. She let the water cool her abused soles for a minute before making for her cove. 

Lance was waiting, as always. 

Pidge skidded to his side, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling into his lap. 

“Whoa, hello to you too,” Lance chuckled, returning the embrace. 

Grunting, Pidge took one of his webbed hands and pressed it against her pink cheek. “You’re cool,” she murmured. 

“Obviously.” 

She didn’t bother elbowing him, it would only goad him further. Instead, she focused her attention on the battered jar resting next to them on the sand. She grabbed it and held at eye level. The dark gummy liquid almost looked like molasses, save for the sparkly white bits of…

“What is this?” she asked. 

Lance gently pried the jar out of her hands. Pidge waited while he pulled her closer and nuzzled into her shoulder. 

He finally replied with a question of his own. “You’re leaving soon?” 

Pidge sighed and nodded. “We’re going back home on Friday.” 

“That’s…?” 

“Two days from now.” 

Two days. Pidge only had two days before she’d have to leave the ocean and Lance behind.

Lance gently pushed Pidge off his lap and unscrewed the lid. “Cheers,” he murmured. He tipped his head back and swallowed the black liquid in a single motion. Goosebumps prickled down Pidge’s arms, and she swallowed reflexively. She had no idea what was going on, but Lance was acting strange and- 

He gasped and fell over, clutching his stomach.


	15. Athazagoraphobia - 2

The blue and black lions alighted in the main hangar, their paws still covered with rusty red dust from Pluumoa. Allura leaned back in her seat, satisfied, and Blue rumbled in agreement. The Pluumoanites were more than willing to join the Coalition, and while they didn’t have much to offer in terms of weaponry or tech, they’d been eager to offer asylum to refugees. The Galra kept a wide berth from Pluumoa because of it’s seismic activity, but Allura was sure that anyone who stayed in the villages’ boundaries would be safe there. 

Blue’s attention shifted, and Allura felt her excitement permeate their bond. 

_My Lance._

Lance was walking toward them, his face aglow. Allura’s relief at seeing him safe and whole paralleled Blue’s. She hurried down the ramp and met Lance halfway for a tight hug. “Please don’t scare us like that again,” she said, pulling back to inspect him more closely. 

Shiro joined them and placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you back on your feet. How do you feel?” 

Lance straightened a bit, an old habit of respect towards a commanding officer. 

“I feel great, my leg’s better than ever,” he replied. His grin faded a bit. “Oh, wait, what happened to my armor?” 

Only her extensive training as a diplomat kept Allura from wincing. The memory of Coran gently prying the crumpled leg guards off of Lance’s battered legs was an unpleasant one. “We’ve restored it, it’s back in your room,” she answered. 

“But did you find- Nevermind.” Lance scratched the back of his head and shuffled out of Shiro’s grasp. “Hunk promised to make some cookies, I’m gonna go help.” 

A shadow fell over the three of them, and they looked up to see Blue lower her head and croon at Lance. Relief and maternal worry washed through Allura, sweeping through their bond until it lapped at Lance’s old connection with Blue. His face softened and he rested a hand against Blue’s chin. “Sorry to scare you, Lady Blue,” he whispered. 

* * *

  
“Stop eating my batter.” 

Pidge paid Hunk no mind, sticking her finger into the bowl and scooping up another glob of blue cookie batter before he could smack her with a spoon. Hunk glared at her and tucked the bowl into the crook of his arm. When Pidge leaned over for another swipe he backed away from the counter. 

“Seriously, these are for Lance!” Hunk began scooping balls of cookie dough onto a waiting pan. 

Oh. Pidge ate her stolen prize in silence, waiting until Hunk had placed the pan in the oven before asking, “Are you sure we should be giving him positive reinforcement?” 

“What?” 

Pidge hopped onto the counter and crossed her legs. “I mean, he goes out and nearly gets himself killed, so we give him cookies?” She silently patted herself on the back for keeping the pure, unbridled rage she felt out of her tone. 

Hunk laughed and waved the concern away. “Oh come on, Pidge. It’s not like he planned on getting trapped under a rockslide. He was just exploring.” 

“That’s not the-!” Pidge closed her eyes and counted to five in her head. “That’s… not the point.” 

Leaning his forearms against the counter, Hunk regarded her shrewdly. “What’s up?” 

“What do you mean?” Pidge muttered, her shoulders caving in without her permission. Hunk had a way of reading people that was almost uncanny. He was almost as good as Lance, who seemed to know instinctively whenever something was wrong. Except, apparently, when he was about to get trapped under a pile of rocks- 

“All of us have nearly died at least a thousand times, but this seems to be really bugging you.” His thick brows furrowed. “You got to him first, right? Is that it?” 

For a moment, her hands were covered in Lance’s blood again. 

“Pidge?” 

Tossing back her head, she let out a strangled laugh. “You’re right. We nearly die every day. We’re Paladins, we have to defend the universe. So _why_ would Lance risk his life over some stupid cave? That dumbass-”

Hunk wasn’t looking at her anymore, his gaze was fixed on something over her shoulder. She turned to look. 

Lance was standing in the kitchen doorway, a smile frozen on his face. 

Damn it. Pidge forced her too-dry mouth to swallow. The anger bubbling in her throat cooled to a gentle simmer and was replaced with the intense desire to grab him and hold him close. 

Lance ambled to Hunk’s side and threw an arm around his shoulder. “So, where are my cookies?” he demanded, his grin growing even wider. 

“The first batch is in the oven.” 

“How long?” 

“Twenty minutes.” 

“That long? C'mooon.” 

Pidge slid off of the counter. Her fingers itched to grab the hem of his shirt. Instead, she left the kitchen. 

The door cut off the sound of Lance’s whining, leaving her with only her thoughts while she wandered back to her room. She could work on decoding some encrypted messages the Blade had intercepted, or read one of the Altean novels Allura had recommended to her. 

Maybe she just needed a nap. 

This last inclination proved to be correct, as the sight of her bed upon entering her room proved to be too much of a temptation. She hopped over the mess and flopped onto the soft mattress. A familiar fuzzy space caterpillar settled into the crook of her neck and cooed. Pidge cracked open one eye and saw it was the blue one. She rubbed the top of his head with one finger and he started purring. 

She’d never given them names, always referring to them as “the blue trash alien” or “the yellow trash floof”. There wasn’t even a proper name for their species. Coran had been as surprised as her when they’d found no record of the little creatures in the castle archives. Alteans had never come across this species in their time. 

“Guess you’re like humans in that respect,” she murmured. “I don’t think Coran or Allura know what to make of us sometimes. To be fair, I don’t know either.” 

The green alien, eager for affection, snuggled next to her blue companion and chirped until Pidge rubbed her head too. 

* * *

 

Lance scarfed down half a pan of cookies before deciding to check on his armor. It was right were Allura said, tucked away in his closet. The leg guards had been replaced, and their shiny newness stood out. The rest of the armor was by no means dirty or unpolished, but it was obvious that Lance had been through his fair share of battles. He’d lost count after a while.

That wasn’t what he was interested in. His hands reached for the belt pouch, hoping he hadn’t lost… No, they were still there. 

_That dumbass._

He chuckled, weary and worn. If he’d known how much trouble his little excursion would cost everyone else… Well, what was done was done. 

With that settled, Lance finally decided to give in to the nagging tug he’d felt as soon as he’d woken. It had grown more insistent with every passing second to the point where it was now a constant buzz in his ears. Even so, he dragged his feet all the way to Red’s hangar. 

Red didn’t move to greet him as Blue had done, merely following Lance with his eyes as the paladin approached. His anger and frustration grew and grew until it left a sour taste in the back of Lance’s mouth. 

“What is your problem?” Lance snapped once he’d reached one of Red’s massive paws. “I’ve already been lectured, like, five times today. I don’t need one from _you_.” 

Red growled. His consciousness delved into Lance’s memories, lingering on Blue’s doting behavior. Jealousy, sharp and bitter, crackled through their tenuous bond. 

_My paladin._

Lance snorted, which only exacerbated Red’s ire. 

_MY Lance.  
_

“Oh, shut UP!” Lance screamed, his hand’s flying to clutch his hair. He shoved at the lion through their bond and forced him out of his headspace. Distant and worried, Blue’s presence reached out to him. She only wanted to soothe, but to Lance, she was only a reminder of what he’d lost. He pushed her away. 

Tears pinged onto Red’s paw, faux raindrops that made his legs buckle until his knee hit the floor. 

He wanted his mom to come and hold him. He wanted his brothers to crack jokes and tease until he couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to hear his abuela’s stories and fall asleep in the hammock in her backyard. He longed to dive into the ocean, let it carry every burden away and leave him absolutely weightless in its depths.

When Red tried to reach out to him again, Lance pushed back so hard Red physically recoiled. 

“Stop pretending you care! I know I’m just a placeholder until Keith comes back. _I get it,_ okay?!” It was hard to talk, let alone yell, when his throat was closing up and his vision starting to spin, but he managed just fine. 

Red was so confused, Lance could feel it. He took a vindictive pleasure in it, delighted that someone felt as lost as he’d been feeling for who knows how long. 

Red’s confusion, Blue’s growing panic (oh how he wanted Blue, he knew he was being selfish but he wanted her back so badly), it only compounded his dizziness. He couldn’t breathe properly, even when he tried to sit up straight. His chest was being crushed again, only this time there was no hope of escaping the rockslide in time. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think.   
In the end, he slumped over onto Red’s paw and let the black curtains at the corners of his eyes swing shut. 

* * *

 

Blue’s terror was immobilizing. Allura barely registered Shiro’s concerned “Princess?”, could only stare at the datapad she’d let slip from her fingers. Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was- 

Shiro’s hand on hers, warm and steady, helped her regain focus. But just as she was able to relax, she saw him freeze. His eyes glazed over and he turned toward the hangars. 

“Red’s hangar. Black- she’s worried about Red,” he muttered. 

Allura nodded and tightened her hold on Shiro’s hand, pulling him along. “Blue’s in a panic. Something’s wrong.” 

* * *

 

Pidge woke from her nap with a start. Green was calling to her. Something was wrong. 

She stumbled out of her room just in time to see Hunk run past her, his apron strings flying behind her. “What’s going on?” she yelled, running after him. 

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Blue? Or Red? Yellow’s worried.” 

_It’s Lance,_ Green murmured. _He needs help._

Pidge’s run turned into a sprint.


	16. A House, A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post-season 6 drabble to help cope with all the Langst it gave me.

The sunsets on Olkari were beautiful, and almost identical to the ones on Earth due to their similar atmospheres. Pidge was starting to understand why Lance loved them so. She’d scoffed at them once because they were a common occurrence. It had taken nearly a year for her to realize just how amazing it was that they were a common occurrence, that the universe had come together in such a way as to make stars and their orbiting planets. Moreover, those stars and planets had conspired to create living organisms capable of cohabiting the universe with them. It was… amazing. Amazing and precious. 

Pidge tore her eyes away from the setting sun and glanced down at the main square below. Ryner had given the team rooms in the former royal palace, each of them equipped with large open balconies. From her perch on a comfortable loveseat, she could watch the bustling city and revel in the cool breeze wafting up from the forest. 

Yeah, making a pit stop at Olkari had been a great idea. As eager as everyone was to get to Earth, they all needed the break. Especially Shiro. He could barely stay awake more than a few hours before needing a long rest. A platoon of Olkari physicians was monitoring his condition with equipment far more advanced than the few scanners Pidge had managed to stow on the lions. Their current prognosis was… mixed. Physically, Shiro was recovering just fine. Mentally… 

“Hey, Pidge.” 

Lance flopped next to her on the loveseat. He let his head loll back and sank into the soft cushions. 

“What’s up?” she asked, folding her legs into their customary criss-cross. 

He shot her a tired grin. “Just wanted to check up on you. Everyone else is sleeping or…” His shoulders slumped and something akin to pain flashed across his features. 

Ah, that. Pidge leaned forward and placed a firm hand on his knee. “Lance, this whole thing with Shiro… It’s not your fault.” Lance avoided her gaze. “I mean it! How were you supposed to know? If Hunk or I had heard him we would have been just as confused. _Allura_ didn’t notice anything when we were in the astral plane, and that sort of thing is her forte.” 

Lance had curled up into a ball by this point, but his smile melted into something more genuine. After a minute or two, he pointed to Pidge’s datapad lying unused by her side. “Working on a new project?” 

Right, she’d come out here to get some peace and quiet so she could work. She picked up the datapad and opened to a list she’d made since before they’d sacrificed the Castle of Lions. “Kinda, I’m working on plans for the new castle,” she replied. Lance uncurled and scooted over, letting one arm fall over her shoulders so he could get a better look. 

“I thought all the blueprints were on Earth.” 

Pidge leaned into his warmth. “They are, these are just some ideas of what we could add. I mean, we might as well upgrade, right?” 

Lance hummed in agreement. “Gotcha. What did you have in mind?”

“A particle barrier that lasts longer than five minutes, for one.” Pidge swiped to a schematic she’d tinkered with for months. She could feel Lance chuckle rather than hear it, soft as it was. 

“That’s a good start. How about upgrading the kitchen too? Hunk would love you forever,” he suggested. 

Pidge cocked her head. All of her upgrades revolved around the castle’s ability to travel and defend, she hadn’t thought about their quality of living. Shrugging, she returned to her list and made a new bullet point. 

“What else?” Lance asked. 

“We need to find a replacement for the teleduv lenses. They’re just too rare and too breakable. And remember when Sendak blew up the crystal and the castle shut down- Oh, wait.”

Lance cackled so hard he shook the couch. “Sorry, some of the details are a bit fuzzy,” he gasped, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Pidge ducked her head to hide her blush. 

“Yeah, well, we couldn’t get to our lions because they were locked in their hangars and the power was out. We need a backup generator or something like that to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she muttered, finally elbowing him hard in the ribs to get him to stop laughing. 

He settled down for a moment before asking, “What about… something for our rooms?” 

“Like what?” 

He squirmed a bit. “Maybe something like the holodeck? Just for the walls. I don’t know about you, but staring at blank white walls all day was kinda depressing for me. I dunno, it’d be nice if we could add some color.” 

Pidge hadn’t really noticed the walls, other than to admire their sleek and functional style. Her room hadn’t felt bare or depressing, but that was because she’d shoved as much junk as would fit in it. Lance was far cleaner than her, so she could only imagine how spartan his room had been compared to hers. She added it to the list. 

“Oh, oh! Make sure we have a pool we can actually swim in!” Lance cried, sitting up a bit straighter in his excitement. 

“Or…” Pidge pulled up a blank screen and started on a rough outline of a gravity generator. “We could leave the pool as is, and change the gravity of the rest of the room so you could swim in it anyway.” 

“Why not just make the pool right side up?” 

Pidge pouted. That didn’t sound nearly as fun. 

Lance sighed and waved a hand airily. “Okay, whatever you want. Swimming upside down is still swimming.” He relaxed against her and let his head rest in the crook of her neck. “What else?”

The sun was well beyond the horizon and all the stars were out by the time they’d finished the list.


	17. And I Know Tonight Is All There Will Ever Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Plance Masquerade drabble inspired by honestlyprettychill's gorgeous piece. https://honestlyprettychill.tumblr.com/image/172842794547

Pidge sipped at her nunvill, her gaze roving over the dozens of couples puttering around the dance floor. She didn't recognize the song. One of the alien ambassadors had made a request and though the tune sounded vaguely like a waltz she wasn't willing to bet any money on it. Finishing off her glass, she leaned against one of the pillars and gazed out the nearest floor-to-ceiling window at the nearby nebula.

She. Was. So. Bored.

Every bone in her body ached to be somewhere else, anywhere else. Allura had organized this party in order to smooth out relations between the Coalition leaders and Lotor - oh, excuse her, _Emperor_ Lotor. Pidge knew that PR events like this were important... but her presence at a masquerade of all things was not necessary. She could be upgrading the lions, or going over the reports from their allies to triangulate the locations of the scattered Galra commanders. Heck, she could be taking a nap right now and it would be more productive than this.

A group of diplomats bustled by, stirring up a breeze that made Pidge shiver. Most of the time she wore comfortable and practical clothing, the sleeveless green ballgown Allura had picked out for her did little to keep her arms warm.

"You okay?"

Pidge ripped her eyes away from the window and regarded Lance sullenly. Even with his blue lion mask, she could see a mischievous glint in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes and said nothing.

Lance chuckled, languid and amused. "Poor Pidge, you're out of your element."

Pidge scowled and looked away. In the center of the ballroom, she could see a small crowd gathered around Allura a Lotor. Some of the leaders still clearly had some misgivings about Zarkon's son, but it seemed that most were slowly warming up to the idea of working with the Galra to establish peace. Pidge still wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"Your hair looks pretty like this," Lance said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

"I-... what?" Pidge squeaked, her cheeks burning beneath her mask.

Lance reached out and looped a finger through one of the curls framing her face. "Your hair looks good in a bun," he said, pulling back his hand and letting the curl bounce back against her ear. "You know, now that it's long enough."

Pidge tucked the loose hair behind her ear. She was speechless, a reaction that was becoming more and more frequent the longer she knew Lance. It was hard to brush aside his words when they wormed their way into her heart. It was hard to brush _him_ aside when he meant so much to her.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked.

Lance stared at her, stunned, and Pidge was right there with him. Had she really just said that?! _What the quiznack was she think-_

"Yeah."

She'd never had an out-of-body experience before, but Pidge was pretty sure she was having one now. The air around her was thick molasses when Lance took her hand. She watched herself place a hand on his shoulder. His hand on her waist completed the circuit and she nearly jumped from the shock of it. Then Lance was moving and time sped up again as she followed.

It wasn't until she tripped over her own feet that remembered she really wasn't a good dancer.

The thought of falling and possibly taking some alien dignitaries along with her, while hilarious, wasn't appealing at the moment. She should stop, leave now and apologize to Lance later. She really shouldn't be here, not when she kept stepping on Lance's toes.

Lance slowed down, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, that was too fast, wasn't it?" he apologized. Pidge blushed a deep red. She was so bad Lance thought he was doing something wrong.

"I don't know this dance, it's not you," she whispered back.

The grip on her hand tightened slightly. "Don't worry, it's simple. Here, look-" Lance looked down at their feet and Pidge did the same. Slowly, patiently, he demonstrated the steps and Pidge did her best to copy them. She was a fast learner, and it was a simple dance when you weren't panicking, and soon they felt brave enough to resume at a normal pace.

Still stumbling from time to time but improving steadily, Pidge was free to pay attention to her surroundings rather than her feet. More and more people were taking to the dancefloor. In the distance, she could see Hunk and Shiro talking with a smaller group of guests.

The crowd parted a bit and Lotor and Allura swept toward them, dancing with more skill and elegance than Pidge could ever hope to achieve. They paused next Lance and Pidge, and even their swaying exuded grace. "I'm glad to see you're finally participating," Allura muttered, looking at Pidge. Pidge stuck out her tongue.

Lance laughed and cocked his head. "Pidge doesn't like to be rushed. You should know that by now," he said, shooting a wink in Pidge's direction.

Pidge inhaled sharply.

The blue light from the Balmeran crystal above them caught his eyes and they glowed.

Lotor and Allura glided back to the center of the room, and Lance pulled Pidge closer to the edge of the ever-growing crowd. They were by the windows again, but when she looked out all she could see was their spinning reflections. She was getting dizzy.

"Pidge?" Lance halted and peered at her face. "You look a little green, are you okay?" he asked.

Pidge forced herself to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths. When the vertigo died down she sighed and looked up at him. "I..."

Who gave him the right to look so concerned?

"I'm fine. Just... I'm done dancing." Pidge pulled away from him, breaking the circuit.

Lance swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Th-thanks," he said, giving an awkward wave before rushing off.

Pressing her forehead against the cool glass, Pidge groaned.

She wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.


	18. Athazagoraphobia - 3

Shiro got there first. The Red Lion was hunched over his giant paw and Lance, who had collapsed on top of it. 

He didn't move as Shiro ran to his side. He lifted the smaller paladin up to get a good look at him. Lance was unconscious, his face pale and covered with cold sweat and drying tears. His pulse, when Shiro pressed two fingers under his jaw, was rapid, but starting to slow along with his shallow breaths. 

Allura was there moments later, placing a delicate hand on his forehead. "Lance, can you hear me?" she asked. Lance's brow furrowed for brief second before smoothing over. 

"LANCE!" 

Pidge skidded to a stop next to them, ignoring the pain of impact when she dropped to her knees. She lifted up one of Lance's eyelids, saw the dark blue iris had rolled back, and gritted her teeth. "What the hell?!" she demanded. "What's wrong with him?" 

Hunk peered over Shiro's shoulder and winced. "Uh oh." 

Whirling on him, Pidge snarled, "What do you mean, 'uh oh'?" 

"None of that, Pidge." Shiro pulled Lance into his arms for the second time in as many days and started heading for the med bay. He could already guess what had happened. Lance's symptoms, Hunk's sympathetic and knowing expression, his own memories of his time as the Champion... The only question was if Lance's experience in Pluumoa had caused it, or if it had simply been the straw that broke the camel's back. 

* * *

 

_I only agreed to accept her as my Paladin because I thought YOU would take care of him!  
_

_I've done my best! The boy still doesn't trust me!  
_

_And have you done anything to earn that trust?  
_

_Red, Blue, I know this is stressful for the both of you, but-  
_

_Shut UP! You have no right to speak about losing your paladin!  
_

_Excuse me? I will not tolerate this sort of behavior from you-  
_

_Everyone, please, let's be rational about this.  
_

_Lance doesn't_ want _to trust me. He doubts his own instincts, how can I work around that? He's nothing like-  
_

_Don't you DARE-  
_

_-Keith._

* * *

 

Shiro laid Lance out on a medical table and Coran pulled up a full-body scanner. Pidge fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and tried to be patient. It was hard, especially since Lance looked so miserably pale and ill. She wanted to hold one of his hands between hers, make sure it was warm. 

Everyone jumped when Blue roared. It echoed up from her hangar and penetrated every room in the castle. The crack of fury that sizzled through the paladin bonds made Lance toss his head to one side and moan. Pidge rushed to his side and pushed back his short bangs in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. 

"What happened?" Coran asked, unable to feel Blue's smoldering anger. 

Hunk shook his head. "I dunno, but Blue's _pissed._ " 

Pidge gave Green a telepathic poke. Green politely and firmly nudged her away. 

"I believe we should let the Lions sort this out," Allura murmured, wincing and rubbing her temples. Shiro and Hunk nodded in agreement. 

Coran shot her a concerned glance before returning to his equipment. "I'm picking up some interference," he said, frowning at the screen. Pidge scooted over to look. The screen projected an x-ray-like image of Lance's body, but it was fuzzy and glitched every few seconds. The source of the distortion seemed to be coming from Lance's jacket pocket. 

Pidge reached into Lance's pocket and dug around for a few seconds before her fingers came into contact a couple of round, hard objects. She gripped them tightly and held her hand out so everyone could see. Seven gems glittered in the bright lights of the med bay. Each one was the size of a robin's egg and almost perfectly round. They ranged in color from bright orange to rusty brown and were littered with veins of blue, purple, pink, green, red, and white that sparkled and refracted the light into streaks of color on Pidge's face.

"Oh! Didn't one of the Pluumoa's say he was looking for a crystal cave? Lance must have found it after all," Allura murmured, leaning forward for a better look. 

Coran's pointed _ahem_ brought Pidge back to task and she took a few steps back so he could finally scan Lance. "Well, there doesn't appear to be anything physically wrong with him, though his vitals read like he's just finished a Junloo marathon." He stroked his mustache pensively. "Overexertion, perhaps?" 

"Actually, I think he had a panic attack." 

Pidge gawked at Hunk. Shiro sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Dammit," he muttered. 

"What's a panic attack?" Allura asked, looking at her human companions in concern. "I don't believe I've heard of it, at least not by that name." 

"Sometimes humans suffer from extreme feelings of fear and anxiety. It can become so acute that it causes dizziness, shortness of breath, a rapid increase in heart rate- that's why we call it an "attack". Some people get frequent panic attacks as a symptom of a medical disorder, but anyone can suffer from one if they experience too much stress." Shiro's tone was clinical and completely belied his somber expression. 

Hunk rested a hand on Lance's shoulder. "I've only ever seen Lance have a panic attack once before, right after our first run through the flight simulator. You'd think it would have hit him while we were in the simulation, but it wasn't until we'd gotten back to our barracks that he started looking off."

Pidge took a deep breath, trying to understand and catalog everything in an orderly fashion. "So, wait, does he have a panic disorder?" 

"No. At least, that's what he told me. He told me he's only had a few panic attacks, and they all happened after really stressful situations. Like the time he almost drowned when he was nine." 

Okay, okay. So extreme stress had caused it. Pidge pocketed the gems and went back to stroking Lance's forehead. His lingering frown smoothed out and he sighed in his sleep, long and steady. 

Allura said something about taking a break for a few days, which Hunk and Shiro seconded. She left to set a course for a peaceful sector of the galaxy and Shiro followed. Coran wanted to keep Lance in the med bay until he woke up, just in case. 

"I'll stay with him," Pidge said, pulling up a weird, floating Altean stool. 

Hunk gave her a Look, but nodded and left to start dinner. Coran fussed over the monitor for a few minutes before Allura paged him for assistance in navigation. 

Once everyone was gone, Pidge leaned her elbows against the medical table and let her fingers trace mindless circles into Lance's palm. 

Extreme stress. 

Well, it wasn't like being a paladin was a walk in the park. The known universe depended on Voltron, the cost of failure was too high to imagine. Countless lives to protect, a ten-thousand-year-old empire to dismantle, an evil dictator to overthrow... Yeah, it was a lot. 

But out of all of them, Lance seemed to be the most well-adjusted. His adaptability and quick thinking had saved their hides more times than Pidge could count. She knew he was homesick from time to time, they all were, but he was never down about anything for more than a day or two. 

Pidge shook her head. No, that wasn't right. Lance wasn't the type of person who brushed off responsibility (or heartache) so easily. He put on a shallow persona most of the time when in reality he felt so, so deeply. His empathy, his intuitive understanding of people and their feelings, were qualities she admired. He gave so much of himself, no wonder he'd reached his breaking point. It was a miracle it hadn't happened sooner. 

Her head found a spot next to the thin pillow on the table and her hand wandered up to wipe his tear-stained cheek. The sickly pallor had finally been replaced by his normal dark complexion and his breathing was steady. Her touch sent a shiver down his body and he opened one bleary eye.

* * *

 

_Well... that could have gone better.  
_

_They're both so stubborn! I don't understand it.  
_

_I hope they resolve this soon. My paladin is troubled by the whole situation, and he worries enough as is.  
_

_Agreed._

* * *

 

Lance felt... awful. Someone had set a dull current through his skin that prickled unceasingly at his mind and body. He was too jittery to stay asleep even though he craved it more than air. Something soft and warm brushed against his face, tickling along his jaw and temple. He opened one eye and instantly regretted it. A low whine escaped and he scrunched his eyes shut.

"Lance! Hold on a sec." 

Pidge. 

The light above him dimmed and two small hands grabbed one of his. He dared another peek, blinking back the swirling red spots in front of him until Pidge came into focus. She grinned. 

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

He felt like the human version of an old tennis ball that'd been chewed on by fifty dogs. It didn't take a genius like Pidge to figure out why. 

White hot shame curdled in his gut. Everyone else was coping just fine, why couldn't he handle it? It was like the stupid flight simulator all over again. 

Seconds passed and Pidge's grin was fading. Lance forced himself to smile. "Not too bad, I've been better though." 

Pidge raised an eyebrow. His grin felt more like a grimace. 

Untangling one of her hands, Pidge carded her fingers through his hair. Lance leaned into her touch and his eyes fluttered shut against his will. Who was this girl, soft and caring as she was? Where was the real Pidge? 

"Well, we're taking a couple days off, so you'll have plenty of time to relax," she finally said. 

Wait, what?

Lance sat up, much to Pidge's annoyance and his own chagrin. The dull throb in his temples turned into a jackhammer. Pidge tried to tug him back into a resting position, but he refused. Once the static in his brain disappeared he tried to swing his legs off the table and onto the floor. 

The Green Paladin wasn't having any of it, she shoved him back. 

"Pidge, I'm fine." 

"Lance." 

"I don't need a vacation, we have more important things to worry about."

_"Lance."_

Her hands squished his cheeks together, forcing him to meet her gaze. 

"Lance, you just had a meltdown-" 

So she knew. He cringed back from her touch, but Pidge followed.

"-and if you need a mental break, then the rest of us definitely do too." 

What did she mean by _that?_ In an instant, he was studying her. There were bags under her eyes, but that was normal for her. ... _Was_ it normal? Was it just his imagination, or did she look paler than usual? Had she eaten lately? If no one reminded her she could easily skip a meal or two while working on a project.

“Pidge, are you o-” 

A hand pressed over his mouth silenced him. “Nope. Not doing that,” she chuckled. 

Something tight and coiled in his chest relaxed the tiniest bit, even as an ugly voice told Lance she was just trying to spare his feelings. He allowed her to guide his head down until their foreheads touched. Her cool breath ghosted over his neck and collarbone. 

He wanted to cry. It would have to wait until he could get back to his room and bury himself in a swath of blankets-

Pidge ran a thumb under his wet eyelashes. 

"It's okay." 

A thin choked whimpered swelled in his ribs. Instinct took over and he buried his face in the crook of Pidge's shoulder. She smelled like Altean soap and ozone, fresh and sharp. Her hands curled around his waist after the first sob shook his body and held him close.


	19. How Do You Stand Being So Short???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodyswap AUs ftw!

Shiro paced up and down the hallway, his eyes continually drawn to the doors of the med bay. Coran and Hunk leaned against the wall opposite the doors, watching his watching. All three of them longed to be inside, but Allura had requested privacy while she worked. 

It was supposed to be a routine mission, in and out. The Blade had heard news of an abandoned Galra outpost. They’d gone there in the hopes of gleaning information on Lotor’s whereabouts. No one had anticipated the druid. Now Lance and Pidge were comatose, deathly pale, and they had no idea what exactly had happened.

Some invisible cord in Shiro snapped and he punched the wall with his human fist. 

The doors slide open as if on cue, and Allura emerged. Shiro, Hunk, and Coran converged on her immediately. She held up a hand to forestall questions. “They’re stable, and I believe they’ll wake up in a few doboshes. Actually, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with them…” she trailed off and looked over her shoulder at the two paladins lying on the medical tables. 

“But?” Shiro asked, his voice strained.

“I don’t know,” Allura admitted. “Their energy feels strange. Almost as if they-” 

Pidge groaned and tried to sit up. 

Hunk got to her side first, placing a large hand on her thin shoulder to steady her. “Pidge! How are you feeling?” 

Pidge rubbed at her face. “What’s wrong with Pidge?” she asked, grimacing. Her eyes widened and one hand flew to her throat. “What the-” She sat up straighter and looked at her hand, trembled, then looked wildly at Hunk before her eyes slid to Lance’s unconscious form. 

She screamed and fell off the bed. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Pidge, what’s wrong-” Hunk asked, catching her panic. 

“I’m _Lance!_ ” Pidge yelled.

Hunk crouched next to her, bemused. “Uh… what?”

Lance sat up with a start, his chest heaving. “Lance, look out-!” he yelled, his eyes glazed over. He had to blink a few times before he returned to the present and looked around bleary-eyed. “What happened?” he asked before he too clutched his throat. 

Pidge flailed to her feet. “You tell me, genius! Why are you in my body?!” she demanded. 

Lance’s dumbfounded expression, so unlike his own, was the last puzzle piece Hunk needed. He shook his head in amazement. “Wait a minute, did that druid… switch their bodies?” 

Allura squinted at the two of them. “It would explain why their essences seem to have swapped.” 

“First of all, _how???_ Secondly, why?!” Lance-in-Pidge’s-body demanded, wobbling over to his - no, Pidge’s - side.

Pidge-in-Lance’s-body scowled. “The druid, dumbass! Obviously.” 

“What druid?” 

“The one who was sneaking up behind you!” 

“Wait, Lanc- Pidge, you saw what happened?” Allura interjected. 

Pidge-in-Lance’s-body shrugged. “I guess. I remember heading for the main database with Lance, and then that druid just kinda… popped into existence? It pointed at Lance, and I tried to push him out of the way, but I guess I wasn’t fast enough.” 

Coran leaned forward, his eyes hooded. “Was the druid holding anything?” 

“No? Oh, wait, yeah! A black bottle or something. I couldn’t see it that well.” 

Allura and Coran exchanged knowing, worried glances. 

“What?!” Hunk and Lance-in-Pidge’s-body demanded simultaneously. 

Allura sighed and folded her arms. “There were tales of Altean alchemists, evil ones, who discovered the secret to stealing someone’s essence - you call it a soul, I believe - and trapping them. I believe that druid was attempting the same thing.” 

Coran pulled out a medical scanner and held it in front of Pidge-in-Lance’s-body. “Fascinating! When Pidge got in the way, it must have disrupted the spell. Instead of being sucked into the bottle, their essences simply switched bodies.” 

“How do we fix it?” Shiro asked.

“Theoretically, casting the same spell on the both of them would create the same effect, and their essence would return to their proper host,” Coran replied tugging at his mustache in thought. 

Lance-in-Pidge’s-body turned to Allura. “Okay, what are you waiting for?” 

Allura gasped, her eyes wide with horror, and Coran tsked angrily. “Now see here Number Five- I mean, Lance, this is black alchemy we’re talking about. The princess was never taught anything of the sort!” 

Allura composed herself and nodded once. “But it’s something I’ll have to learn, I’m afraid. We can’t exactly ask the next druid we meet to help us.” 

“How long will that take?” Pidge-in-Lance’s-body asked, slowly getting to her feet. 

“First we’ll have to find the records of alchemists who’ve done this, and that means digging into the castle archives.” Coran ticked the steps off his fingers. “Then we have to translate them, as they’re most likely written in Ancient Altean, then the princess will have to study them, _then_ -” 

“We get it, it’ll take forever!” Lance-in-Pidge’s-body snapped. 

Pidge-in-Lance’s-body scowled. “You’re not the only one upset by this.”

Lance-in-Pidge’s-body sighed and looked at Pidge-in-Lance’s-body. “I’m not upset with you, Pidge. I’d be stuck in a bottle right now if not for you. Thank you.” 

Pidge-in-Lance’s-body flushed. “Don’t mention it.”

To everyone’s surprise, they reached out at the same time and hugged each other. Lance’s- no, Pidge’s expression was so incredibly soft Hunk had to slap a hand over his mouth to avoid squeaking. He knew how Pidge felt about Lance - had known for a long time - and he hoped this situation, awkward as it was, would give her the courage to let Lance know too.

Lance-in-Pidge’s-body pulled away first and shook his head. “Holy crow, how do you stand being so short?” 

Pidge-in-Lance’s-body shoved him.

“Aaaand he ruined it,” Hunk muttered.


	20. Concussed and Cuddly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someday I'll write a fic where Lance isn't sad, injured, sick, pining or any combination thereof. Today is not that day. Today we've got concussions.

Lance hated the cold, hated it so much. He’d spent most of his life in either the tropical climate of Cuba or the scorching deserts of Arizona. How was he supposed to build up a tolerance for cold weather in such environments?

He hadn’t, plain and simple.

Another round of shivers traveled up his spine and down his numb fingertips. He tucked his hands into his armpits and glared at the walls of ice surrounding him. Forget Hoth, the Moon of Lasva was the granddaddy of all frozen wastelands. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your point of view) he and Pidge weren’t stuck on the lunar surface with its eternal snowstorms, but instead encased a mile below in the caverns built by the moon’s inhabitants. 

One of them, Lance was pretty sure his name was Gupp-Gupp, entered the cavern from one of the many tunnels. Like all his people, Gupp-Gupp was around six feet tall and covered with a thick, shaggy red coat of hair that looked incredibly inviting. Would it be bad manners for Lance to ask if he could burrow his way in and just take a nap? Probably.

Pidge followed behind Gupp-Gupp and waved for Lance to join them. “What’s up?” he asked as Gupp-Gupp led them down another tunnel. 

Pidge’s teeth were chattering and Lance had to lean in to hear her. “G-Gupp-Gupp’s taking us t-t-t-to our rooms. ’llura want’s us to st-stay the night.” 

“What? Why?” Lance whined. 

“It’s Lasva custom for new allies to spend a night-” Pidge sneezed so hard it echoed off the walls and Gupp-Gupp turned to regard her warily. “-in each other’s caves. Trust-building exercise or something.” She wiped her nose and grimaced. 

“Greeeat,” Lance moaned. 

A few twists and turns later, Gupp-Gupp pointed to the entrance of a small cave. Pidge and Lance nodded their thanks and entered. The cave was small, with tiny glowing orbs stuck into the wall for light. What caught Lance’s attention was the giant pile of furs and blankets arranged in a nest-like configuration in the center of the cave. 

A nest. Singular. 

“Ummm… how is this going to work?” he asked, his cheeks already starting to flush. 

Pidge plopped down in the middle of the nest and flung her helmet to one side. She started removing her leg guards. “What do you mean?” 

“There’s two of us and only one bed.” 

“Oh.” Pidge looked at the nest and shrugged. “It’s big, we’ll both fit.” 

“I- No, I mean-” Lance stammered, the blush creeping to his neck and ears. Pidge’s arm guards came off next, followed by her chest plate, leaving her in the black, form-fitting undersuit they all wore. Lance averted his eyes. 

“Dude, come on,” Pidge snapped. “You didn’t even know I was a girl until _I_ told you, don’t make this weird.” 

Lance huffed and shoved his hands further into his armpits. “Hey, my mom raised me to be a gentleman!” 

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Whatever, go ask Gupp-Gupp for another room then.” 

“Won’t that be rude?” 

“Not necessarily, I don’t think the people here are cognizant of your antiquated societal norms.” 

Lance grinned, peeking at her. “‘Cognizant’, 'antiquated’. It’s so cute when you use big words,” he teased. 

Pidge threw her boot at him. It hit his stomach hard enough to knock him back into the wall.“Whoa, whoa!” he yelped, his feet slipping out from under him. His head hit the ice with a loud _crack!_ Stars and comets circled his vision for a solid minute before he managed to blink them away.

“Lance! Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” 

Pidge was kneeling next to him, one hand cradling his neck while the other gently probed his scalp- Ouch! He winced and Pidge hissed in sympathy. He could already feel a large goose egg on the back of his head and the headache accompanying it. 

“Ow… uh, that…” he slurred, closing his eyes to the pain. He let Pidge pull him to his wobbly feet and guide him the few short steps to the nest. She settled him with his back to a pile of cushions and patted his cheek.

“Hey, open your eyes.” 

He did so begrudgingly, only to be met with a bright light pointed at his face. Pidge had grabbed her helmet and turned on the flashlight. He groaned, hoping the dizziness would fade soon.

“Pupils are responding to light, that’s good,” Pidge muttered, turning off the light and setting her helmet aside. She then held up one finger in front of Lance’s face. “Don’t move your head, just follow my finger with your eyes.”

“Why?” Lance asked, tracking her finger as she swept it from side to side and up and down. 

“I’m making sure you don’t have a concussion,” Pidge explained. She sighed and leaned back on her heels. “At worst, it’s a mild concussion, but we’ll have to wait a bit to make sure. Tell me if you feel nauseous or start seeing double.” Without further ado, she started removing Lance’s armor. 

“Uh,” Lance squeaked. He allowed her to manhandle him out of his armor and wrap them both up in soft furs. She leaned against his chest, her hair tickling his nose. Lance tentatively placed a hand on her hip, appreciating the warmth he could feel through her suit. His eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey, no. No falling asleep!” Pidge pinched his side. 

“So mean! I’m tired.” 

Pidge sighed. “I know. Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Her hand curled around the back of his neck again. 

Lance curled around her, greedy for her warmth and comfort. He breathed in the scent of musky furs and Pidge’s shampoo. He hoped the undersuit was thick enough to mask his racing heartbeat. 

He’d never have a chance like this again, he was sure. Best make the most of it.


	21. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how about season 7, huh?

Lance has never been overly fond of the color red. It’s not a bad color, but it can’t hold a candle to the soothing blues of his ocean. As a kid, he’d wear his blue crayons and pencils down to nubs long before the red ones were in danger of running out.

Red wasn’t bad, just not as interesting.

Then he was a paladin, and red became something else. Red meant fire and passion, instinct unchecked and unquestioned. A clear contrast to Blue, methodical and harmonious Blue.

The Red Lion wasn’t a good fit for him, he knew from the moment he piloted it for the first time. Red burned. Red consumed. Red urged him to release rationality and rely on tremulous instincts that Lance didn’t know how to trust. His soul blistered from the heat of Red’s demands and the needs of a universe looking to Voltron for hope.

 _How does Keith do it?_ he wonders. They were wired too differently. Lance couldn’t trust his instincts the way Keith could. He wasn’t talented enough to rely on pure impulse, of that he was sure.

The tiny kernel in the corner of his mind that let him know who he was refused Red’s advances on a daily basis, even as the lion sought to devour him. It was too dangerous, too pure.

He refused and refused and refused…

“You. I bet half my fleet that this group of heroes has a soft spot for the small one.”

…Until he could refuse no longer. Red burned and consumed and devoured and gave him _strength_. Strength he desperately needed. He’d let himself burn at the pyre so long as she was safe.

_“Don’t you touch her!”_


	22. Athazagoraphobia - 4

Hunk globbed the last bit of pale green lotion into his cheek. “How long before we wash this gunk off?” 

Lance huffed his indignation while Pidge bit her lip to stop a chuckle from escaping. Her teeth accidentally scraped some of the lotion on her own face, and she grimaced at its bitter taste. Next to her, Shiro was sprawled across most of the couch, decked out in his purple robes and his face slathered with cream. He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. Pidge tucked her feet under her, enjoying how soft her own green robe was. She wondered why she’d waited nearly a year before finally wearing it. 

Her eyes lingered on the opposite couch, assessing. Despite his affronted expression, Lance’s posture was loose and languid; the twinkle in his eyes nothing but genuine. The bags under his eyes were gone, something she was infinitely grateful for.

“I usually put it on at night and wash it off the next morning, it does wonders. But you can wash yours off in an hour,” Lance directed. 

“What?! Dude…” 

“That’s the price of beauty, Hunk.” 

Lance helped Allura wrap her long hair into a towel. The princess thanked him with a bright smile and set to work rubbing some lotion into her skin. Two of the mice held up a small compact mirror so she could see her face.“I used to have a similar routine,” Allura mused.  "I haven’t really kept up with it though, not since…“ 

She paused, sorrow lingering in the curve of her mouth. After a beat of silence, she shook her head and turned to Lance. "I’m glad you suggested this, Lance. I think a… "Spa Day” is well deserved.“ 

"Here, here,” Shiro murmured, cracking open one eye and smiling at the Blue Paladin.

Loverboy Lance didn’t seem to know what to do with all this attention. He glanced at Allura then looked away, his complexion bright red under the face mask. “Uhhh…”

Pidge did her best not to scowl.

Coran popped into the lounge with cups of liquid that Hunk promised would taste like hot chocolate, Lance took the opportunity to avoid coming up with an answer by downing his drink and moving on to the pedicures. 

The evening passed in quiet chatter until Lance suggested a movie marathon. They were finally going to finish the twelve-part Raayskihian drama they’d started so long ago. Everyone except Pidge found a seat while Coran set up the movie. Mere months ago she would have curled up in her usual spot between Coran and Lance without question. 

Now… now she wasn’t so sure. Ever since their heart to heart in the med bay, the tiniest of interactions between them felt charged. She lingered over everything Lance did and said. A look across the dinner table, his hand brushing against her shoulder; they all took on new weight in her mind and she didn’t know how to interpret them. If she could just sit down and _talk_ with him…

She and Lance hadn’t had a proper conversation for almost a week. Hunk and Coran had monopolized Lance’s company during the first few days of their break, both of them determined to make sure the Red Paladin decompressed his emotions in a healthy manner. Shiro pulled Lance aside multiple times to speak privately but judging by Lance’s too cheerful expression afterward (and Shiro’s frustrated one) those conversations didn’t go the way Shiro hoped. 

Lance plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. She had no choice but to sit, stiff as a board, ignoring her instincts to lean against his shoulder like she’d done so many times before. 

The movie started, the lights dimmed. 

Pidge forced herself to pay attention to what was happening on screen. The story was engaging, despite her jumbled emotions she relaxed enough to settle back into the cushions. 

Lance sighed and leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers. She froze. 

An achingly long moment. Lance slowly withdrew. 

Pidge peeked out of the corner of her eye. Lance’s face was smooth, no trace of emotion to be seen. 

One of her hands slipped into the pocket of her robe and closed around the Pluumoan gems she’d tucked in there that morning. She _was_ going to give them back to Lance, once they could really talk. 

As soon as the movie ended Lance stood, stretched, and went to bed.

* * *

 

This whole debacle was so… embarrassing. 

Lance flopped onto his bed and groaned into one of his many pillows. It grew progressively louder, reaching a muffled scream that burned in his throat. A couple punches into the mattress drained the rest of his energy and he rolled onto his back. 

The entire “break” had been a nightmare. Nearly a week of wandering around with nothing to do and his team waiting for him to shatter into bits of glass. 

Today hadn’t been so bad. That was something to keep in mind. His spa routine had kept everyone preoccupied and distracted. No pitying looks from Allura. No Hunk shoving desserts down his throat. No Coran popping out of thin air to check on him. No Shiro trying to get him to talk about how he was feeling. No Pidge- 

Quiznack, she didn’t even want to sit next to him anymore. 

Well, it wasn’t like he’d expected anything better. Who wanted to hang out with someone that couldn’t keep their emotions in check? He’d literally collapsed into a puddle of snot right in front of her.

He groaned and curled around the pillow. The threat of tears, a dull burn in the corners of his eyes, only frustrated him further. He’d kept himself in check for years, now was not the time to fall apart. 

More guilt slithered into his stomach at the thought of what his… histrionics were costing everyone. 

The Lions weren’t working. 

Not just Red, not just Blue, All of them. 

It had come up a few times, always delicately and always when everyone else thought Lance wasn’t listening. Allura mentioned that Blue didn’t want to speak to her, and Hunk said Yellow was busy. Shiro and Pidge both tried to enter their lions, only to be met with a particle shield (which, as Lance knew all too well, _hurt_ on an emotional level). 

All Lance got from Red was radio silence. 

His personal issues were so screwed he’d messed up the dynamic of millennia-old sentient machines. Wasn’t that just dandy? 

Sleep didn’t come as quickly as it used to, but tonight he drifted off with comparative ease. 

* * *

 

Allura found Shiro just as he was leaving the med bay. He pressed an ice pack to his forehead, his back tight with pain. Not for the first time, Allura wondered what had happened to him during that frightening time when he’d disappeared. The Ancients only knew he’d been through so much already. 

“Princess. Is everything alright?” he asked. Allura sighed and clasped her hands. 

“I do not know. I’m worried about Lance, and the Lions, and… everything.” 

Shiro cracked a smile, wan and tired. “Me too. We can’t do anything about the Lions right now, but Lance- Getting him to open up - actually open up - is like talking to a brick wall. A slippery, evasive brick wall.” He scowled. “Maybe he just doesn’t trust me.” 

“No! Lance trusts you with his life!” 

“His life and his feelings are entirely different, princess.” 

Allura bit her lip. With so little information, the problem was deeper than she could fathom. Lance - happy, chatterbox Lance - was reticent. It was impossible to find a cure when no symptoms could be seen. 

She squared her shoulders. “We need to get through to the Lions, now.”

* * *

 

_Lance dived into a sea of stars.  
_

_A ruddy glow pervaded everything, even the air he breathed. Above him, pink and red clouds mingled with the constellations. Whatever controlled this area of existence set gravity at an adagio tempo as he fell. His feet touched down on a neverending plain of glass. He seemed to be completely alone, stuck between two infinities.  
_

_“Hello?” he called out. “Anyone here?”  
_

_The echoes faded into the void.  
_

_He spun around. Nothing.  
_

_“Hello?!” His voice cracked, panic setting in. “Anyone!”  
_

_A strange, familiar voice finally spoke up._ “I’m right here.” 

_A great lion, bigger than any Lance had seen on Earth, sat back on its haunches, regarding Lance with golden eyes. Its pelt was scarlet save for streaks of white in the mane that shimmered with starlight.  
_

_Lance swallowed once. “Red?”  
_

_The lion nodded, and though his mouth stayed closed his voice was clear._ “You’re not as surprised as I thought you’d be.” 

_Lance made a vague gesture to their surroundings. “Shiro told us about his fight with Zarkon… He didn’t mention the Black Lion looking like… this.”  
_

_Red shook his head, mane flying in all directions before settling._ “Shiro and Black had little difficulty understanding one another.” _His tail flicked out a restless pattern._ “I hoped that choosing an appearance familiar to you would help.”

_He took a few steps forward, Lance resisted the urge to retreat. Even in this smaller form, Red was half a head taller. Perhaps he noticed his paladin’s thrill of fear because he stopped._

“Lance, this cannot stand,” _he sighed._ “We must come to an agreement.” 

_Words, quick and sharp. They were needed now more than ever to protect his mangled heart. “What’s there to talk about? We both know what we want.”_

“I have no idea what you want,” _Red snapped. A glint of teeth peeked out and a low growl escaped._ “You refuse to trust me.” 

_It was too much. Red and Keith really were suited for each other, they were both so dense. Lance closed his eyes and inhaled, deep and slow. “Listen. I’m sorry for freaking out earlier. All I want is for us to do my job until…”_

“Until?” 

_Lance shrugged. “Until the universe is safe? Until you get Keith back?”  
_

_Red whined and surged forward. Lance found himself flat on his back with a mouth full of fur. A wet nose tickled his neck._ “Is that what this is about? You fear you’ll be replaced.” 

_It took a second to push Red’s mane out of the way. “I’m not afraid of that. I want Keith to-”_

“So you can go back to Blue.” _Harsh. Hurt._

_“N- No…” Lance sighed in relief when Red pulled back, allowing him to sit up. A gentle nudge forced him to meet Red’s eyes._

“You don’t wish to be a paladin any longer?” 

_“It isn’t about that.”  
_

_Those golden eyes smoldered._ “…You do not think you are worthy?” _When Lance looked away Red snarled. His hot breath pushed back Lance’s bangs._ “How can you doubt it, when Blue chose you herself?” 

_Lance closed his eyes. Kept them closed because he was on the verge of crying. “I know, I trust her. She made the right choice when she gave me up. Allura is the best paladin for her, and Keith is the best paladin for you. The universe needs the best.” It was a distorted echo of an old conversation, back when doubt flooded his mind. Now there was nothing but tremulous certainty. “And I just want to go home.”  
_

_A tear slipped out, sliding down his cheek and disappearing into the curve of his neck. He had a moment to acknowledge it before a huge paw pulled him to Red’s side. A cocoon of fur and warmth surrounded him, along with the scent of ash and smoke. Red started purring and Lance failed to hold back a hysterical fit of giggles. What an overgrown house cat._

“…It’s amazing how the creatures in your plane are apt to change. Allura wasn’t worthy of Blue when you first met her, just as you weren’t meant to be mine when Blue chose you. I no longer know what Keith needs, nor can I give it to him. 

"All I know is this: You are the paladin _I_ need now. I do not believe that will change if Keith chooses to return.” 

_“Red-”_

“And I am truly sorry for not being the Lion _you_ need.” 

_“No, Red…” Lance wrapped his arms around Red’s neck. More tears escaped but he didn’t care this time. They soothed a part of his soul he hadn’t realized was burned and raw. Red nuzzled his shoulder, his purrs reverberating through Lance’s chest.  
_

_It felt like a beginning of some sort. Hopefully, they could work out a happy ending._

* * *

  
Lance stared at the white ceiling. 

It took him a moment to realize he was awake, and another to recognize the sound of someone knocking on his door. He wiped his face free of stray tears and stumbled out of bed. 

Pidge was waiting on the other side of the door. Her eyes, haggard and underlined with black bags, roved over his ruffled pajamas and mussed hair before settling on his wet cheeks. She shoved a hand into her pocket. 

“I couldn’t sleep. Can we talk?”


	23. Hidden Cove - 3

 

 

Sneaking back into the house and stealing a pair of Matt’s swim trunks was easy. Pidge didn’t care all that much if he found out later, it was the least of her problems at the moment.

* * *

 

Allura frowned and pulled out a few more jars. Her trunk was nearly empty, its contents scattered around her in the soft sand. Behind her, she could hear Shiro swimming closer and felt the current from his tail push her long white hair up around her ears.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, coming to her side. His face was illuminated by the bioluminescent streaks in her fins, the patches of scales on his cheeks and shoulders were changed from midnight black to radiant blue.

Sighing, Allura began putting everything back into the trunk. “It’s nothing, I’ll just have to get more squid ink.” Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it. Squid ink was for only the most dangerous of spells, so it wasn’t like the clan would suffer without it for a while. Still, she’d been sure there’d been an entire jar of the stuff.

They’d no sooner left her cave when Veronica pounced, her fins flared wide in distress. “Have you seen Lance?”

“What? No, not since yesterday,” Allura replied. It took everything in her not to groan aloud. It’d be easier to count all the times Lance hadn’t gotten himself into trouble. “Is he missing again?”

Veronica nodded. She was the oldest in her family and the responsibility to look after the baby brother fell mostly on her shoulders. “I’ve checked everywhere he likes to hang out. The reef, the wrecks, everywhere. He’s been missing all day!”

Allura closed her eyes and counted to ten. The trick to dealing with Lance was to remain calm. No matter what he’d gotten himself into, no matter how long he’d been missing, the only effective way to deal with the situation was to keep a cool head. Allura was grateful she’d been born with naturally white locks because Lance’s behavior was enough to turn any matriarch’s hair gray.

She swam back into her cave and pulled out a long rope of pearls her mother had made long ago. Each one was tinged a slightly different color, except for the two pure black ones at the end.

“Allura?” Shiro peered over her shoulder.

She pointed to a dusky blue pearl in the chain. There was no hint of black or grey in its hue. “He’s alive at unharmed.”

He nodded. “So, we just have to find him.”

Allura turned to where Veronica was waiting by the mouth of the cave. “Where’s Hunk?”

* * *

 

It was… warm. Warm and dry. He was pretty sure it was dangerous for him to be this dry, but it felt… good? It was hard to tell in the dark, maybe if he…  
Lance opened one eye and immediately squeezed it shut. Too bright. Too much.

“Lance!”

Oh, he knew that voice. A cool shadow fell over him and he dared to peek again.

Pidge slowly came into focus. First her light brown eyes, then her freckled nose, soft lips, tousled hair… He grinned when she pressed a hand to his cheek. “Hey… what’s up?” he slurred.

Scowling, Pidge leaned back and the bright sunlight assaulted his eyes. Not fair.

“What’s up?! That’s what I want to know, Lance!” she hissed. “What the hell did you do?!”

Memories bubbled and broke through the pleasant buzz impairing his consciousness. Hunk’s warnings, impending loss, a black jar, pain in his stomach and tail-

Lance gasped and flailed into a sitting position. He nearly fell back onto the sand from the sudden onset of vertigo, Pidge’s hands latched onto his shoulders and held him steady while he blinked back into existence. He was on the beach, the ocean a few yards away. Pidge’s towel was wrapped around his waist, and… and…

“It worked,” he breathed, wiggling his new toes.

Pidge grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “What worked?” she growled. Lance responded by squishing her cheeks in his hands and kissing her soundly on the lips.

Pidge slapped him.

“Ow!” he yelped. That really stung.

“Lance, you have five seconds to tell me what happened or so help me-”

“Okay, okay!” Lance cringed away from her. He’d never seen Pidge this angry. “I made a potion that gave me legs, that’s all.”

Pidge opened and closed her mouth several times. She sat back on the warm sand with a dull thump. “That’s all,” she finally repeated, pushing back her bangs and revealing wild, worried eyes. “Lance…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, lifting one of his legs (wow, that felt weird) and wiggling his toes again. “It’s not permanent, I think-”

“You _think?!_ ”

“Hold on a sec.” Lance dug around for a bit, sand flying in every direction until he found what he was looking for. He held it up for Pidge to see. A pearl necklace interspersed with glowing green gems twinkled in the sunlight.

“I made this for you. These are the crystals we use in our caves,” Lance explained, looping it over her head.

Pidge rubbed a pearl between her fingers. He hoped she liked it, he’d spent the better part of a day collecting the best pearls and crystals for her. “Lance…” she sighed, the exact opposite of pleased.

Lance pouted. “I just wanted to spend more time with you. Before you…”

A soft kiss pressed to his cheek lifted his eyes and his spirits. Pidge’s eyebrows were crooked into a line that he now recognized as her “I’m in love with an idiot” expression.

“How long do we have?”

“Until sunset.”

“Well, I wish you’d told me first, but…” She pointed toward the town. “I was going to check out the farmer’s market. Wanna come with?”

“YES!”

Lance scrambled to get to his feet (this was so cool, he actually had feet) and the towel slipped, pooling around his ankles. Pidge shrieked and spun around.

“What?” Lance asked, wobbling on his new legs.

Pidge threw a pair of shorts in his direction. “Put it on!”

Oh.

He looked down his new body.

Ohhhh…

“Uh, okay. Yeah,” he wheezed.

A quick detour to steal Matt’s sandals and they were set.

* * *

 

Hunk, as it turned out, was playing hide n’ swim with his niece in the kelp bed. The three searchers arrived just as Hunk snagged the tiny mer by the tail and pulled her in to blow belly bubbles on her stomach. She giggled uproariously and smacked his face with her fins until he let go. Hunk caught sight of Allura and his niece took the opportunity to dart back into the kelp.

“Do you know where Lance is, Hunk? He’s gone missing.” Allura demanded. Her fins glowed brighter despite her efforts to remain calm.

Hunk gulped and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Allura was unconvinced. “Hunk.”

His eyes fixated on a clam near his tail.

_“Hunk.”_

“I don’t know!” he squeaked, wringing his hands together. “But I can guess…?”

Hunk’s guilty expression sent Allura’s heart plummeting. “Please don’t tell me he went to the surfa-”

“The surface.”

Poseidon help her, she was going to kill that boy.

Veronica gasped and clutched her hair. “The surface?! How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Allura shushed her, motioning for Hunk to keep his frantic eyes fixed on hers. “How often does he go?”

“I’m not sure. At least once a day.”

“Near land?”

“Probably? I’ve never gone with him, so I don’t… know…” He trailed off and hung his head. “How long has he been missing?”

Too long to bode any good. Allura closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. This wasn’t the first time Lance had ventured above the surface, every mer snuck away once or twice when they were young. It was a rebellious phase most quickly grew out of. But to go topside repeatedly, to approach humans… No mer could be that crazy-

The squid ink.

_Oh, gods._

She turned on her tail and raced away, leaving a startled Veronica and Hunk behind. Shiro could barely keep pace with her.

“Allura! What-”

“Wait by the shore - _not too close_ \- let me know as soon as he comes back.” She could only hope that Lance would return safely, that he’d have enough sense to keep his clan safe. It was time to craft a spell of her own.

* * *

 

Lance’s curiosity about humans was both endearing and problematic. Endearing because his gasps of admiration and wide blue eyes were absolutely adorable; problematic because he had not grasped the concept of whispering.

“What is that?!” he yelled, pointing at a rottweiler. Its owner gave them a funny look and hurried by.

Pidge grabbed Lance’s arm and yanked until his ear was level with her lips. “For the third time, that’s a dog!” she hissed.

“But it didn’t look anything like the other two.”

“Do all fish look the same?”

Lance pursed his lips. “Touché.”

Pidge rolled her eyes and took the lead, keeping a firm grip on his hand as she guided him toward the town square. Every third Wednesday the sleepy coastal town diverted traffic away from the square, not that there was much of it, and local vendors set up stalls to sell their wares. There was always lots of good food and cool trinkets to be found (even if the prices were exorbitant). Pidge couldn’t think of a better introduction to human culture for a mer on a new set of legs.

Speaking of which…

She glanced back at him. His face and shoulders were flushed, though she couldn’t tell whether it was from excitement or the heat. He only had swim shorts and sandals on, but that wasn’t too unusual. Whatever kind of spell he’d used had worked perfectly. His legs were slender but strong and he barely stumbled anymore. The patches of scales that once covered his cheeks and shoulders had disappeared, leaving no trace of anything fantastic or mythical about him. He caught her staring and winked.

Another few blocks found them in the square. The air was filled with the scent of sugar, barbeque, and crisp spices. It was just starting to get busy as tourists came in from the beach to partake in the local culture. Rows of colorful booths lined the perimeter. Some sold food and produce, others offered homemade jewelry, soaps, cutlery, candles, blankets, lotions, antiques and more. In the center of the square was a fountain shaped to resemble three mermaids. (Ha!) A jazz band was setting up on a patch of lawn nearby.

Lance scooted a bit closer to Pidge. He seemed a bit nonplussed by the unfamiliar sights and sounds surrounding him. Pidge let go of his hand and looped her arm through his. “C'mon, this way.”

She tugged him toward a booth selling clothes and after a few minutes of intense searching bought him a t-shirt that proudly said, ‘Forget Adulting, I want to be a Mermaid’. When she read it aloud to him he only sighed and tugged it over his head.

Pidge smirked and helped him get his arms in the sleeves. “Want a snack? I know a good place.”

His stomach growled out his approval and they both laughed.

Shay’s kettle corn stand was always popular and they had to wait a few minutes before they could be served. The taller girl grinned broadly when she caught sight of Pidge. “Hello, Pidge! I haven’t seen you at all this summer.”

“I know, I know, I’ve been… busy,” Pidge apologized, ignoring the coil of guilt in her stomach. Her family came here every summer, and over the years she’d made a few good friends with the local kids. This summer she’d practically abandoned them.

Shay’s gaze lingered on Lance for a moment. “I see.”

Lance looked at the bags of kettle corn and the jug of raspberry lemonade sitting next to it. “What is this?” he asked, craning his neck to peek at the copper kettle in the back of the stall.

“Lance has never had kettle corn,” Pidge said, pulling out her wallet. “Can we get a bag and two medium lemonades?”

She handed over two tens and got a five dollar bill back. Shay handed each of them a cup of lemonade and gave Pidge the bag. They shuffled out of the way of the next customers and sat on a bench near the fountain.

“This is good!” Lance exclaimed, sucking at his lemonade through the straw. “Let me try the kettle corn.”

It was delicious. Pidge had to fight to keep Lance from stealing most of it. They finished their drinks in silence, punctuated now and then with a few questions from Lance (“What were those things you gave her?” “Money.” “What for?”). The band started playing and Lance twisted around to watch, captivated by the smooth jazz.

“That’s amazing,” he murmured.

Pidge leaned into his side. “Mers don’t have music?”

“We do, but we mostly just sing.”

A shadow fell over the bench. Pidge blinked a few times and looked up.

The man standing before them seemed to be in his late twenties but she couldn’t tell if his long white hair was natural or dyed. Probably the later, as his dark skin was flawless. Everything about the man exuded luxury, from his manicured nails to his expensive suit to the gold watch glittering on his wrist.

He flashed an urbane smile and spoke with an equally smooth English accent. “Forgive me for interrupting, but I couldn’t help but notice your rather remarkable necklace.”

Pidge’s hand flew to her throat and the necklace resting there. “Oh, uh…”

“Perhaps you could tell me where you purchased it? I’ve never seen gems quite like those.” The man’s strange purple eyes latched on to the green crystals. His fingers twitched, eager to take hold.

“I… I don’t really remember? I bought it a few months ago at the market, but I don’t think the vendor is here today,” Pidge fibbed, ripping her gaze from his and making a show of looking around. She could see Lance’s puzzled frown out of the corner of her eye and prayed he’d have the sense to not contradict her. This man, whoever he was, was just a bit too inquisitive for her taste.

The stranger shifted his attention to Lance. His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, and while his expression of mild eagerness remained fixed something akin to mania ignited those striking features. An urge to shield Lance from his scrutiny nearly overwhelmed Pidge, and she bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. Lance didn’t seem to like him all that much either. He avoided the man’s eyes, balling his hands into nervous fists and leaning away.

A flash of metal caught Pidge’s attention. Two women in dark suits were standing a few feet away from the man, subtly keeping the other tourists away from the bench with their mere presence. She couldn’t make out much of their features due to their reflective black sunglasses, but one of them was well over six feet tall and the other had a bulge on her hip that Pidge could only hope wasn’t a gun.

“What a pity.” The man pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Pidge. “If you do come across that vendor again, I’d be most grateful if you’d call this number.”

The card was silvery grey and stamped with the purple logo for Galra Industries Inc. on one side. The other side was blank save for a single phone number.

“Tell my secretary you wish to speak to Lotor, that will let her know you’re someone of importance,” he instructed, giving Pidge what was supposed to be a warm smile. His eyes fixated on Lance again for a few seconds before he slipped into the crowd. The women followed close behind. All three were soon out of sight.

“Who was that?” Lance whispered, curling into Pidge’s shoulder.

Pidge rubbed a hand down his arm, wanting to soothe away his frightened grimace and calm her own ruffled nerves. She couldn’t explain her rush of overprotectiveness. The man had been nothing but civil, but her father had told her many times to trust her instincts and that’s what she intended to do.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, looking at the card again. Galra Industries was one of the world’s biggest weapons manufacturers and had a checkered past of conducting business with terrorist groups as well as the countries they terrorized. There were also accusations that the CEO knowingly used slave labor camps in third world countries and that the company disposed of their waste products with environmentally unsafe methods. The rumors were even worse; human experimentation, scientists kidnapped to develop new WMDs, even research into the occult. Nothing was ever proven, no cases were ever presented in court, but everyone admitted that it was strange how investigative journalists always disappeared when they tried to dig up a scoop on Galra Industries.

It was strange, not to mention unsettling.

Pidge ripped the card into tiny pieces and scattered them to the wind. She hopped up and pulled Lance with her. “Forget about it, we’ve got a lot to do before sunset.”  


	24. Athazagoraphobia - 5

"Um... yeah. Okay." Lance shuffled over and Pidge slipped past him. 

Lance's room was far cleaner than hers, even with his knickknacks and clothes scattered around the closet and floor. His bedsheets were in total disarray, snarled and knotted at the end of the bed. Lance turned on the light and they both blinked their discomfort. 

"So what's up?" Lance asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and motioning for Pidge to do the same. She sat down gingerly, her free hand twisting the fabric over her knee. With the other, she pulled out the Pluumoan gems. 

"Here. We had to take them out of your pocket because they were messing with the scanner, and I kept forgetting to give them back." 

"Oh." 

Pidge dumped them into his outstretched hands. They both stared at the gems for a few minutes, admiring them. One caught Pidge's eye, a gem that flashed blue and green fire in the light. Lance noticed and held it out to her. 

"You like this one? I got one for each of us." 

So that's why he- 

Pidge took the gem and placed it back in her pocket. Three deep breaths later, she was ready. 

"Lance." 

"Mmm?" 

His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. How long had he been crying? 

"I'm worried... about you." 

Lance didn't move, but Pidge saw how he folded into himself all the same. The glint in his gaze dimmed and the laxity in his shoulders hardened into something thin and guarded. He looked away and licked his lips. "I- Yeah, I'm doing okay. Better than before..." 

"No, I- It's more than that, I don't-" _I don't know how to explain myself. I don't have the words._

"Pidge, it's okay," Lance placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I'm feeling better, and we'll be back in the Lions in no time-" 

"No, Lance!" 

The both winced. She didn't mean to be harsh. 

"It's not just because of Voltron, or the team, or- or because you're my friend. It's... selfish." Again the words stuttered and stumbled. 

"Selfish?" Lance looked so confused. Of course he was, she wasn't being clear. "How is worrying about someone selfish, Pidge?" 

It was selfish because she needed him the way she needed air. The ache she felt whenever he was in pain might kill her one day. 

"Pidge-" 

"I love you!" 

* * *

 

Allura tightened her grip on Blue's controls, not quite sure what to do now that she was here. 

She'd marched into Blue's hangar expecting to find the particle shield up, instead, she'd found Blue more than willing to let her enter. The lion's consciousness sank and rose in waves in the back of her mind. Rhythmic, constant, alert. It was far better than the simmering anger she'd felt all week, yet frustrating nonetheless because Blue still wasn't talking. 

Perhaps Allura had to make the first move.

"What do you need?" Allura asked, looking around the cockpit. "How can I help?" 

_Hmm. That's different. Not so long ago that would have been a command._

Allura sat up. "Blue!" 

_Hello._

"Hello... How are you, erm, feeling?" 

_I've been better... but I've also been worse. I'm sorry for shutting you out these past few quintents. I needed time to "cool down" as Lance would say._

"Understandable." Her fingers drummed against the controls. She couldn't think of a way to continue the conversation without possibly angering Blue again, which was awkward, but the prolonged pause was unbearable. "Um, about Lance...?" 

_Yes?_

"We're all worried about him." 

_Yes. I believe he and Red have begun to sort things out.  
_

"Really? How so?" 

_I'm not quite sure. Red hasn't told me anything. Lance will probably be the more talkative of the two._

The memory of Shiro's frustration tugged Allura's lips into a half smile. "Maybe. They're both stubborn." 

_It's a trait Red and I look for in our paladins._  

Blue's presence wrapped around her in a cool blanket, a comfort she willingly sank into. 

_I don't understand how you do it, growing and changing every tick of your lives. It looks exhausting._

"I suppose...?" 

A ripple of wistfulness tinged Blue's thoughts. _I have always known what I was, what I am, and what I will be. I wish I could give my paladins the same security._

Allura tilted her head in thought. "No offense, but that sounds incredibly boring." Blue rumbled her approval. 

_And that is why we need you._

* * *

 

There. No more beating around the bush. Her cheeks were on fire, but it was far better than being smothered by her boiling emotions. She forced herself to look him in the eye as much as she wanted to rivet her gaze to the floor. 

Lance's mouth opened the tiniest bit. His own cheeks reddened, a beautiful contrast to his round blue eyes. The gems clinked against each other as they fell from his limp hand onto the mattress. 

Pidge reached out oh so slowly, unable to tell if she was more afraid of his reaction or hers. Trembling fingers traced the curve of his jaw. He sucked in a short breath and closed his eyes.  

"So much," she continued. "A-and I don't know what to do. I... hate seeing you like this, and I don't know what to do because I'm not good at this kind of stuff. I want to give you what you need, Lance, because you give me so much and I'm sorry I can't- Please, just tell me what I can do..." 

He exhaled hard and bowed forward, leaning into her touch. His eyes fixed on the sheets, he croaked, "Why?" 

Pidge blinked. "What?"   
"

Why do you...?" He curled away from her, too mortified to continue. 

"Why do I... love you?" 

Lance blushed, _hard_ , and pulled back. Pidge grabbed his hand in both of hers. 

"Because you're kind? The kindest person I know. And you're brave and generous, and smart-" Lance huffed, a barely there laugh that infuriated her. "-Smart and quick on your feet. You stop the team from overthinking and keep us grounded. If it weren't for you we'd all be stuck in our own heads and nothing would get done. You care about everyone so much, more than we- more than I deserve. I don't know what we'd do without you, Lance. Truly." 

Lance shook his head, kept shaking it and mumbling, "No, I'm not- I'm the seventh wheel. You and Hunk and Coran are the geniuses, Shiro and Allura are the amazing leaders and warriors - so's Keith - I'm just..."

"Our sharpshooter!" 

He grinned, wry and hopeless, "Really? Seems to me I'm just the screw up of the team." 

_What?!_

"Whatever negative thoughts you have about yourself are wrong, Lance. Plain wrong." Pidge bit back a snarl. The last thing she wanted to do was shout at him. " You want to know why I love you? How could I not? You're extraordinary. I'm sorry for not letting you know sooner. I'm bad at relating to others, but it's no excuse. I have never felt this way before, Lance. Not about anyone." 

His hand covered her mouth before she could continue. She watched as his shoulders shook before slumping. More than ever she wished she could read his mind. 

"Pidge, I- I need some time to think," he finally whispered, gently pushing her back. 

He sounded so... exhausted. Pidge ignored the stabbing sensation in her chest and nodded. "No- yeah, yeah. Sorry to, um, wake you up in the middle of the- yeah." 

She got up in a daze, barely registering the twin hisses of the door as it opened and then closed behind her. Instead of turning right or left she walked straight ahead until her forehead gently bumped against the opposite wall. Her eyes closed and the urgent need to sleep lapped at her consciousness, belayed by the cool metal against her brow that helped her think clearly.

Lance knew everything now. She was glad, even if he didn't feel the same. 

...Didn't he know how important he was to the team? How could Lance think such horrible things about himself? 

_How could he not?_ the candid, painful part of her psyche countered.

How many times had he been told to knock it off? To stop goofing around and focus? How many times had his fears and insecurities gone unspoken because he didn't feel like anyone would listen? How many times had she snapped at him, told him to go away? 

Holding in her feelings hadn't just been awful for herself, she realized with a tired horror. Her jumble of confused emotions had shortened her temper, made her snap at the person she wanted to support. She'd been immature and thoughtless.

And now here she was, praising him to the skies when all of her actions and words beforehand said otherwise. 

Tears flooded down her cheeks in an unexpected rush. 

The door hissed.

"Pidge! Pidge, wait-! Oh." 

Pidge's hands clutched at her shoulders, terribly vulnerable and raw at the moment. She let Lance spin her around and tilt her chin up. 

"Pidge? Oh no, Pidge, don't-" 

Lance ran back to his room for some tissues, babbling out an apology that wasn't quiznaking needed, while Pidge wiped her eyes. 

No one in the universe deserved this boy. 

She wiped her nose with the proffered tissue. "I'm so sorry, Lance." 

"Pidge-" 

"I should've been a better friend." 

"You're an amazing friend-" 

"You're not stupid, or a dumbass. Or... whatever I've called you. I lashed out at you, and it wasn't fair." 

"Hey, hey..." Lance stroked her hair. It was so soothing, so unearned. "I get it, ya know? Out of anyone, I know how stress can affect people." 

Quiznack, they were both messes. 

"I'll do better," she promised. "You deserved better. I love you."

His hand fell to his side. "You keep saying that," he muttered. 

"Because it's true!" 

"Out of everyone we've met, why-?" 

Pidge grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes.

" _You_ are my first choice." 

Lance broke. 

"I love you too," he sobbed. 

Their first kiss, brief as it was, set every part of Pidge aflame with exhilaration. She wanted more. The next one lingered, and Pidge poured all of her love and fear and selfish protectiveness into it. One hand tangled into his hair and tugged, coaxing a sigh from Lance. 

Pidge broke away just long enough to curl up against him and he wrapped around her immediately. They were a perfect fit. She peppered his face with more kisses, soothed the stinging in the corners of his eyes and smoothed his furrowed brows until he gave way to hiccuping laughs. 

"Can we date?" she asked, a little too breathless to pass as composed. 

Lance ducked his head. "Do you really want-?" 

"Yes." 

"Then yes." 

Pidge grinned against his neck and pressed another kiss to his collarbone.

* * *

 

Hunk found them curled up on Lance's bed the next day. After being sworn to secrecy he helped Lance make seven necklaces from the Pluumoan gems. Allura finally got something sparkly.

(And, with her help, Shiro finally got his heart-to-heart.) 

* * *

 

Lance settled back in Red's chair and did his best to ignore the balloon of nervous energy in his chest that was making it hard to breathe. Shiro's face popped up on the screen, illuminated by the purple glow of Black's cockpit. 

"Alright team, we're just doing a simple flight pattern today. Let's make sure we remember the basics." 

Red was unimpressed. _Hmph, I'll show him basic._

Lance bit back a grin and saluted. "Roger that, Gold Leader." 

"Shiro is the Black Paladin, Lance." 

"Oh my gosh, Allura doesn't know anything about Star Wars," Hunk gasped. 

Pidge popped up next to Shiro. Her blue and green gem glittered against the silver chain and her white armor. "I'll race you to the nearest asteroid belt," she challenged with a smirk that always sent his heart pounding. 

"Guys, no, this is-" 

"It's on!" Lance whooped. 

Red was out of the hangar as soon as Lance grabbed the controls. 

* * *

 

_Athazagoraphobia - the fear of being forgotten or ignored and the fear of forgetting._


	25. Jealous Kiss(es)

She usually wasn’t so bold when it came to their relationship - not that Lance was in any way complaining. If Pidge wanted to drag him into an empty room, guide him to the nearest chair, straddle his legs and then proceed to ravish his lips with her own… well, she was free to do so. He returned the sentiment with enthusiasm, tried to at least, but Pidge seemed very intent on taking charge in this particular make-out session. Again, all power to her.

He let his hands settle in a loose circle around her hips when she finally pulled back for air. She rested her cheek against his and continued her conquest with ticklish butterfly kisses. Lance gulped down a few breaths and looked around. The Garrison records room was blessedly empty, occupied only by themselves and the hum of computer monitors. Still, there should have been at least one other person there.

Pidge caught his roving eye. “Lunch break.”

Ah. His response was postponed by a trail of kisses down his jaw, ending in a sharp nip on his bottom lip.

“H-how long do we have before someone finds us?”

“Don’t care.”

“But- ah!” She’d found a sensitive spot just under his ear. “But you’re the one who wanted to keep… _this,_ ” he made a vague gesture to the two of them, “a secret.”

Pidge moved further down, her teeth scraping lightly against his Adam’s apple. “Changed my mind. I don’t care.”

Lance frowned, trying to think through the pleasant haze Pidge had inflicted on him. It wasn’t like her to change her mind at the drop of a hat. She was the one who planned for every contingency, took every precaution. Well, unless she’d worked up a temper-

“Wait. Is this because Veronica keeps dropping hints about Allura and me?”

Pidge’s lips hovered over his pulse point. She exhaled, and the prickling chill that followed made his fingers twitch.

Burying his smirk into Pidge’s messy hair, Lance pulled her closer. “If that’s all it is, we can just tell Veronica. She’s good at keeping secrets. I told her I was bi two years before I came out to the rest of my family.”

Wandering hands slid down his back, teasing the hem of his shirt. “No, I want everyone to know,” she muttered, biting a purple bruise into his collarbone.


	26. It's the End of the World As We Know It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *throws generic zombie apocalypse au at you*

Waiting was torture. A mind-numbing interim that only ended when he was back safe and sound. Pidge couldn’t decide which would be worse: for the waiting to continue ad infinitum with only a guess as to what had happened, or for it to end in the bloody conclusion that became more probable with each passing day. 

Her perch on the rooftop made it a bit easier to bear. Pidge could see him coming from at least three blocks away. When she wasn’t on lookout duty, she was taking potshots at any undead that got too close to the fence or tinkering with her radio. Sometimes she could get scattered signals from what was left of the military. There was never any good news. 

To say that there still was an actual military was somewhat laughable. Sure, there were still a few groups of soldiers hunkered down in a few forts, but countries didn’t exist anymore, let alone militias. The plague had spread too quickly; Pidge estimated less than 5% of the Earth’s population was still alive. 

She still didn’t know if the rest of her family was part of that tiny percentage. They had to be. 

The gleam of light against metal caught Pidge’s eye and she pulled out a pair of binoculars. She focused on the abandoned corner store, their usual checkpoint. 

Yup. There he was. Pidge scanned the surrounding area, then pulled out a small mirror and flashed it twice in the waning sunlight. Lance leaped out of the store and dashed toward the compound, confident in Pidge’s ability to take out any undead that might spring out of the shadows before they reached him. She didn’t quite understand his faith in her. He was by far the better shot. 

No undead appeared. Lance skidded to a halt by the gate, unlocked it, and slipped inside in record time. Once the gate was secured, Pidge abandoned her post and slid down the drainpipe. He was waiting for her at the bottom and she let herself be scooped up. 

“Wait, wait,” he laughed, breathlessly fending off her kiss. “Wait ‘til you see what I found.” One of his hands disappeared into his bag and reappeared with- 

“Peanut butter!” Pidge squealed, snatching the jar from him. She unscrewed the lid and inhaled the nearly forgotten scent. “Where did you find it?” 

Lance let her go only to pull out more luxuries. Cooking oil, canned peaches, ground garlic and onion powder, cinnamon, beef jerky, bottles of Tylenol and Advil, even a few tootsie pops. “I scoped out the houses near Alder Street and one of ‘em has a cellar chock full of stuff, we need to make more runs.” 

“Any undead?” 

“No more than the usual.” 

Pidge wrapped her arms around his neck, demanding his attention. The kiss was fierce, almost brutal in its joy (not just because of the peanut butter, though if she had her way tonight Lance would be weak in the knees for a few days). It was the same kiss they exchanged before and after either one of them left the compound, the kind that burned each other’s skin and left them licking their lips to capture the taste of it for hours after. They couldn’t risk anything softer or sweeter, not while trying to make whatever this was last as long as they could in a dead world.


	27. Let Me Tell You 'I Love You' One More Time

_“No, get away from him!”_

A cool hiss and a fading teal glow was the only warning Pidge had before falling out of the healing pod. She fell into a pair of sturdy arms, one of them warm, the other hard and smooth. Blinking, Pidge found herself looking up at Shiro. He gave her a quick hug before letting her find her feet and stand on her own. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “That was a nasty head wound.” 

One of her hands flew up to her temple, the memory of throbbing pain lingering for a few seconds. She scrunched her eyes shut in an attempt to remember what exactly had happened.

There had been a ship… A slave ship. The rescue mission. Sentries, lots of them. Too many. Lance-! 

Shiro answered the frantic question he could see building in her eyes. “Everyone else is fine. We freed all the prisoners and crippled the ship.” 

“What about-” Pidge swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What about Lance? He was with me when…” 

“He’s the one who took out the rest of the guards in the prison quarters and brought you back to the castle.” Shiro folded his arms. “Speaking of which, why on earth would you dive at a guard when you knew he was holding a grenade?” 

Because Lance had been surrounded. He wouldn’t have gotten free before the grenade was thrown.

“Pidge.” 

She faced Shiro’s firm stare. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

Shiro sighed a tired, parental sigh they’d all grown accustomed to and shook his head. “It’s a good thing you had the sense to activate your shield, or your head would have been blown off.” A reluctant grin teased the corner of his mouth. “Everyone else is asleep, you should get some rest too.” 

Pidge made a pretense of heading for her room. Once she was sure Shiro wouldn’t notice, she made a beeline for the observation deck. 

Her footsteps were padded by the soft material of her white undersuit (there was no time to change), so Lance didn’t notice her approach until she’d slipped her arms around his waist. She felt the muscles in his back tense, but other than that he didn’t move. 

“…Hey-” 

“That was _so stupid!_ ” Lance spat out, pulling himself out of her reach. His shoulders hunched up to his ears and his words wobbled in the space between them. “You- you weren’t _moving_ , and your head was in a pool of blood! I didn’t think I’d be fast enough. I thought you were going to die in my arms and I couldn’t do anything about it!” A choked sob left him speechless for a few seconds. 

Pidge licked her lips. “I’m not sorry I did it-” 

Lance finally turned just enough to glare at her with one red-rimmed eye. 

“-but I’m sorry I scared you.” 

The pregnant pause sent a shiver down Pidge’s spine. With a torpid, dragging slowness Lance closed the gap and cupped her face between his hands. His lips met hers, something she’d been aching for ever since she got out of the pod. She wanted more, honestly, and she wasn’t sure what to do about the heartbreaking gentleness in his caresses that pricked tears from her eyes. Her hands smoothed down his shoulders and arms, trying to settle the worry and grief and (unjustified) guilt that had built up there. 

Lance broke away and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “You’re completely missing the point,” he mumbled.


	28. Lightweight

So… fermented nunvill was a thing.

Well, technically it wasn’t fermented (Coran claimed it was freeze-dried, melted along with juniberry juice, freeze-dried again, sublimed, then condensed back into liquid exactly 571 ½ vargas later), but the effects were practically the same. The royal advisor had pulled out several kegs for the diplomatic party, claiming that a flurk or two - the humans assumed a flurk was the Altean equivalent of a pint - would put everyone at ease.

Hunk only took sparing sips as the evening progressed, though it wasn’t because of the taste. The added juniberries actually improved the taste and made it palatable. It was the persistent burn in the back of his throat that made him leery; this stuff was potent. Some of the diplomats gathering around Allura already looked overly tipsy.

As if to confirm his fears, Pidge leapt out of the crowd and attached herself to his back like a baby koala.

“Heeeeyyyy, Hunk!” she sing-songed, grinning from ear to flushed ear. “Whateryoudoing?”

Hunk shrugged. “Nothing much.” He took in her glazed eyes and dopey expression. “Uh, how much have you had to drink, buddy?”

“Twoooo… three? Three cups?”

Oh goodness. At best, Pidge weighted as much as a soaked cat.

He was contemplating the pros and cons of convincing her to call it an early night when Lance wandered over, pink-cheeked and loose-limbed. “Some party, huh? I jussaw an unilu dude try to jump on a table. Shiro had to pull him off.”

Hunk gave him a Look.

“’ve only had half a glass,” Lance protested, showing him his cup as evidence. Hunk was satisfied. Lance may be slurring here and there, but he wasn’t nearly as inebriated as-

“Hey, Lance! Lance, Lancey-Lance!” Pidge released her grip on Hunk’s shirt and weaved towards him. Lance raised an eyebrow and caught her when she tripped over nothing. “Whoops!” she squealed, not trying to get out of his hold. On the contrary, she seemed quite content to stay where she was.

She cocked her head and smirked up at him. “Have I ever told you, you look good in blue?” Lance blushed a deeper pink and shook his head. “Reeeally good. Goes with your eyes.”

“Thanks,” Lance murmured.

“You always look suhgood,” Pidge continued. “I’ve never mentioned it before because you’re really annoying about it. But you’re, like, the prettiest person I know. It'sss… I dunno, I’m jus’ jealous.” Her giggles added an odd counterpoint to her little speech and sent her swaying.

Lance shook his head vigorously. “Nah, Pidge. You and Allura are way prettier.”

Pidge blinked up at him with owlish eyes. “You think ’m pretty as ‘llura?”

“Well… yeah.”

She grabbed Lance’s face and pulled him down for a kiss. Pidge’s back bowed as her whole body curved into Lance’s frame. Her lips rubbed against his for a few seconds before managing to slot into a more comfortable position. Her eyes were squeezed shut, the perfect antonym to Lance’s frozen stare. After a few seconds, she let him go, wiped her mouth, and stumbled back into the crowd.

Lance’s cup fell from his hand and clattered to the floor.

Hunk gently set his own cup on the nearest table.


	29. Just Keep Breathing For Me

Pidge rolled to her side, then the other side. She flopped on her back and looked at the ceiling. 

It’s no use. She can’t sleep. 

Her mind races back to earlier today. The shield station. It had been touch and go there, and they never could have repaired the radiation shield without Hunk’s expertise. Honestly, it was a miracle no one had… 

But that wasn’t true, was it? Lance had died. Would have stayed dead if not for Allura. 

Pidge closed her eyes. 

Lance had _died_ … and no one was talking about it. 

Her chest tightened with pent-up grief and unneeded mourning. She kicked off her sheets and sat up, ignoring the dizziness and swirling colors that came from standing too quickly. By the time she blinked away the fuzziness she was already out the door and halfway down the hall. 

He was probably asleep already and wouldn’t appreciate being disturbed. But Pidge needed to see him just one more time to be sure. Needed to check his pulse and breathing, feel the warmth of his skin and see that spark in his eyes that wasn’t quite like anyone else’s. 

She knocked on his door. A beat of silence. Pidge looked to Shiro’s door on the right and Hunk’s door on the left. 

Should she knock again? Louder? Lance had slept through the castle’s alarm before. 

The door slid open just as she raised her hand to try again. Lance leaned against the doorframe in tired surprise. “Pidge?” 

Pidge pulled her too-dry lips apart. “Uh…” 

He glanced back into the room, presumably at his warm and comfortable bed. “Is there something you need…?” 

“I just…!” They were both too exhausted to be anything other than honest. “I wanted to check on you. I was worried.” 

Lance slumped. His lips pressed into a thin line and those royal blue eyes were drawn to the floor. Pidge reached out and clung to one of his hands. 

“Lance.” 

“Hmm?” 

Shaking her head, she used her grip on his hand to tug him to the edge of the bed, closing the door behind them as she did so. They both sat down, a few bare inches between them. She wanted to wrap a blanket around his shoulders, maybe hold him close until those phantom shivers were finally chased away. Maybe the shadows were playing tricks on her eyes, but for a moment Pidge swore she could see something clinging to him… the remnant of where he’d gone, perhaps. 

Ugh. She gave in and hugged him tight, ignoring the way his bony elbow jabbed into her stomach. He leaned in with a crumpled sigh. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“…No.” 

They ended up curling around each other, their limbs an impossible tangle as they flopped onto the mattress. 

“If you ever want to talk about it… I’m here.” 

“I know.” 

Again that frightened swell rose in her rib cage. It only seemed natural to press a kiss to his cheek, as if by imprinting herself on him she could keep him safe and, more importantly, here with her.


	30. Touch Starved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to writing Pikelavar.

Pike liked to think of himself as a patient hunter. He knew when to wait and when to spring forward, surprising his prey with deadly sneak attacks. Sometimes he used pitfalls, other times he’d string up snares. If the pickings were easy, he’d just overpower his victims with speed and skill. Every potential ambush had to be treated as its own case. Routine was a deathtrap. 

As it was, his current victim was rather unobservant. He’d been following her for nearly half a varga, hopping from branch to branch, tree to tree, and making little to no effort to stay quiet. The windy day helped some, he would admit, but any seasoned warrior should be able to tell the difference between wind-rustled leaves and “this is the only warning you get before the clammy hands of death claim you” rustling. 

So, yeah, he didn’t feel too bad about tackling her to the ground. 

Meklavar’s outraged yowl cut off as the breath was knocked out of her lungs. Pike winces as her heavy armor digs into his skin despite the thick furs she wore. His sigh of disappointment only enrages her further, and with a mighty heave, she sends him bowling head over tail. 

He righted himself with his natural catlike agility and smirked at her. “If I were a goblin or a fellbeast, you’d be dead.” 

Meklavar raised a twitching hand to her axe before letting it drop to her stomach. “You’re the only dead man walking around here,” she wheezes. 

“Ooh~! So scawy!” 

He watches her regain her feet with lazy fondness. Even with him sitting and her standing, she’s barely more than half a foot taller. “What do you want, Pike?” she sighs. The annoyed curve of her lips wipes the grin from his face. 

He shrugs. “Just wanted to liven up your day a little. Keep you on your toes.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Our party’s been so busy lately, there hasn’t been much time for fun.” His gaze flickers to the tired circles under her eyes, the weary persistence of her stance. He probably should have thought twice about pouncing. 

Twigs snap under her heavy boots and Pike tenses, waiting for anything from a bop upside the head to a full-blown punch. Dwarves aren’t known for their tempers or for playing nice, even among their kin.

Gentle hands rub at the knots behind his ears and he gasps. Meklavar coaxes throaty purrs out of him, humming to herself in a pleased fashion. The wary orphan he once was tsks a warning, tells him to be ready for the other foot to drop. It’s quickly overpowered by the honey-sweet warmth that floods his chest whenever his beloved bestows any sort of affection. Physical touch has a way of breaking down his barriers, something she knows all too well. 

He’s besotted - another deathtrap, but one he can’t seem to care about. 

One hand leaves his ears to pull off her helmet and throw it to the ground with a dull thump before tilting his chin up. He stares, his mind foggy and pleased in a way he can’t explain. 

“If you wanted attention, you could have just asked.” 

His blushing, stuttering denial is silenced with the ghostly press of her lips against his. She pulls away before he can beg for more, but only to murmur, “Gods, I love you.” 

The next few kisses are far more satisfying.


	31. Spin the Bottle

It was Hunk of all people who suggested it, something Pidge would later reflect on with great suspicion. 

“Spin the bottle?” Allura asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. Hunk twirled a greenish yellow bottle that had once been filled with alien spices. Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge could see Lance perk up with interest. Figures. 

Hunk cleared a spot on the dining table and set the bottle down. With a deft flick, he sent the bottle spinning. “Yeah, it’s an Earth game. I thought it’d be fun since we’ve got nothing else to do today.” 

“I’m thinking we’d have to change the rules a bit,” Shiro stated more than suggested, crossing his arms as the bottle slowed and pointed at him. 

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Hunk held up his hands. “We wouldn’t have to kiss unless both people wanted to.” 

Pidge sighed and leaned back in her chair. Lance pouted. 

“Kiss?” Keith asked in growing alarm. 

Lance frowned. “Then what would we-” His eyes lit up and he slammed a palm against the table. “Wait! If they don’t wanna kiss, they have to do a dare instead!” 

Shiro thought about it for a minute before nodding. “So long as the dares weren’t too dangerous or mean-spirited… yeah.” 

“Jeez, take the fun out of everything, why doncha?” Lance teased. 

Keith looked from one paladin to another. “So no kissing, right?” 

After a brief explanation of the game for Allura and Coran’s sake, Hunk started things off by once again spinning the bottle. It landed on Lance, who batted his eyelashes and smirked. “Pucker up, bro.” 

Hunk laid a hand on his heart. “I love you bro, but I think I’ll choose a dare instead.” He gestured to the pitcher of nunvill in the center of the table. “I dare you to chug the whole thing.” 

Lance turned green at the thought. “Bro!” 

“You’re the one who suggested we do dares,” Keith murmured, pushing the pitcher towards him. Lance snatched it, sent a long, sweeping glare around the table, and started drinking. Everyone watched with mixed amusement and horror as he tilted his head farther and farther back, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously until he slammed the empty pitcher down and gasped for breath. 

“-hate you so much,” he wheezed, resting his forehead on the table. 

Coran was next, and when it landed on Allura she gave him a daughterly kiss on the cheek.

Keith spun and it landed back on himself. He shrugged and passed it on to Shiro. 

Shiro spun and got Hunk, whom he dared to make a banana cream pie for dessert later. (“That shouldn’t count as a dare,” Lance muttered, rolling his eyes.)

Pidge watched with growing trepidation as Shiro rolled the bottle towards her. It wasn’t like she hated spin the bottle, she’d just… never played it before. She hadn’t been invited to many parties since elementary school. 

The bottle was heavier than she’d expected, bigger too. She almost needed two hands to spin it properly. Her heart pounded as it twirled, nearly knocking over her own cup in the process. It went on for quite a while, longer than she’d been expecting. With an abruptness that took her breath away, it stilled. The bottleneck pointed squarely in Lance’s direction. 

“Aw, come on,” Lance groaned, leaning back in his seat. He sighed and squared his shoulders, braced for whatever dare Pidge could think of. 

But all Pidge could think of was, “I don’t mind kissing you.” 

Lance blinked and she nearly swallowed her tongue. 

“Really?” he asked softly. 

Flames licked at her neck and ears. “I-I-I mean. I don’t mind… on the cheek. If you-… But if you don’t want-” 

“I don’t mind.” His voice was even, though high-pitched. 

Oh. 

She’d later think of it as an out of body experience, her getting up and walking around the table to Lance’s seat. With jerky swiftness, her lips made contact with his cheek. It wasn’t completely smooth like she expected, there was a hint of scruff along his jaw that caught the corner of her mouth. 

He pulled away as soon as he felt her touch, his face warm and flustered. For a moment Pidge hovered there, awkwardly bent over while Lance was determinedly not looking at her. Then she flew back to her seat and shoved the bottle towards Allura. She kept her head buried in her arms for the rest of the round and excused herself from the table long before she was in any danger of having to spin that quiznacking bottle again. 

After a few more rounds the game ended, and Hunk picked up the bottle along with the rest of the dishes. Once he was alone in the kitchen he reached a finger into the bottle and tugged out a small device of his own invention. He chuckled, remembering the dopey expression on Lance’s face when he’d watched Pidge flee the room. 

Allura owed him 50 GAC.


	32. Hickeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire AU

“This is a bad idea,” Lance murmured, looking around once before returning his attention to Pidge’s neck. Pidge sighed and ran a hand through his temptingly soft hair, allowing the tips of her claws to scratch his scalp.

She took a moment to admire the ambiance. The graveyard was well kept, only a few crumbling tombstones stuck out like rotten teeth among the neat rows. She’d lured Lance to the willow tree at the top of the hill, and it’s thick curtains hid them from sight while allowing enough moonlight in to illuminate their flushed complexions.

A harsh bite just under her ear drew her attention back to the matter at hand. “You’re, _ah,_ enthusiasm would suggest otherwise.” One of her hands tightened its grip on his hair and gently pulled his head back. It was rather ironic. She was the vampire and yet he, a vampire hunter, showed far more interest in her neck than she did his.

Lance leaned forward and nuzzled their noses together. It was a cool night, and the tip of his nose was nearly as cold as hers. “It’s hard to be anything less when I’m with you,” he purred.

Oh, if her heart could still beat it would be thumping wildly in her ears. His gaze flickered up to meet hers, and from the way his jaw slackened she could tell her eyes were glowing. She squeezed them shut, not wanting to entrance him by accident. Her stare was purely a defense mechanism and not needed here.

A puff of air hit her face as Lance came back to himself. He chuckled and pressed a deep kiss to her mouth. She reciprocated, her hand slipping from his hair to his jaw and pulling him closer. It ended with her falling back onto the grass, his arms caging her as he merged one kiss into two, then three. Above them, an owl hooted and the wind picked up.

Pidge loved these autumnal nights. The daylight hours shortened, giving her more and more time to roam. The chilly delight of it all was only accentuated by the warmth radiating above her. Breathing, sighing, _living_. Lance was a treasure.

The tiny silver cross he wore slipped out from under his shirt. Pidge wrapped the chain around her free hand in a lazy loop. What a pretty superstition.

Lance pulled back the tiniest bit, barely a few millimeters. His words slipped through her parted lips in a warm fog. “This is still a bad idea.”

Most of their ideas were bad ones. There was no getting over the fact that they could be caught at any moment, either by her family or his faction. Pidge’s eyes wandered to Lance’s coat, discarded at the base of the tree. There was holy water somewhere in those big pockets, along with a wooden stake and several silver knives. All useless, of course.

Lance provided a sweet distraction with another kiss, this time on her cheek. She nuzzled against him, her nose dipping to his collarbone.

“Hungry? It’s been a few days, hasn’t it?” He grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged it down, exposing more of his smooth neck for her pleasure. Already the tips of her fangs were poking through her gums.

But Pidge hesitated because she wasn’t _that_ vampire. “Are you sure?”

“Mmm.”

Well, if he insisted…


	33. Lost in Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some background Shallura in this one because I can.

The Atlas was… big, to say the least. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

Speaking of which, Lance happened to be looking for one of those. However, due to the enormity of the ship, that task was proving rather difficult to accomplish. He’d already ended up in the same maintenance deck twice, and now he was wandering a maze of hallways with little to no hope of ever leaving.

He’d resigned himself to this new lifestyle when Shiro found him.

The captain grinned. “Lance, it’s good to see you up and about.”

Lance traced the line of his ribs and the fading soreness there. It was the last physical reminder of their fight with the new robeast. “It feels good. Hey, do you know were Pidge is?”

Shiro pointed up, “I think she and Allura are in the communications hub. I was just heading there myself.”

Lance sighed in relief and followed Shiro around the corner to an elevator that he could have sworn hadn’t been there before. They waited in comfortable silence as the elevator ascended.

Until Shiro peeked at him from the corner of his eye. “So… you and Pidge?”

Lance blushed and nodded. It was something he was coming to terms with. He still found it hard to believe Pidge could have any interest in him, honestly.

He forced himself to meet Shiro’s mischievous grin. “What about you and the princess?”

Shiro looked away and scratched the back of his neck.

The doors slid open, revealing the communications hub and two of the most amazing women Lance had ever met. Allura was tapping at the surface of the large, hovering orb that served as the communication module while Pidge crouched at its base, fiddling with an open panel and way too many wires. Neither of them looked up when Shiro and Lance approach.

“What are you doing?” Lance asked, leaning down to get a better look. Pidge grabbed a few wires from the mess and plugged them into her computer. She grunted once and seemed to think that was a satisfactory answer.

Allura translated. “We’re adjusting the Altean translation system. According to Pidge, it’s not exactly “human-friendly”" She rolled her eyes, having already accepted human frailty long ago.

One of the wires sparked and Pidge jerked back, her head knocking into Lance’s chin. They both winced.

Shiro peered at the orb, then at the computer. "Need any help?”

“Not from you two,” Pidge muttered, rubbing the top of her head.

A pang of anxiety left Lance speechless for a moment, but he played it off in the next. “Ouch, tell me how you really feel,” he joked, shooting two finger guns… which she ignored.

A communicator on Shiro’s belt beeped and he sighed. “Looks like I’m needed elsewhere.”

Allura leaned toward him, her cheek an open invitation while her gaze remained locked on the orb. Shiro gave her a quick kiss before leaving.

Lance hung around for a few minutes, one foot tapping until Allura asked him to stop. No one spoke, and the atmosphere only got heavier and heavier.

He gave up. “Well… if you don’t need me I’ll just…” Pidge didn’t respond. Her adorable nose was scrunched as her hands flew over her keyboard.

There was just enough courage left in him to duck down and kiss her forehead. The clacking paused. He flinched when she took one of his hands. “Don’t go.”

He looked around the room. “But I’m not really-…” Helpful.

Pidge tugged at him until he sat down behind her and had both arms wrapped around her waist. She leaned back with a contented sigh and returned to her work. Lance’s grin disappeared in the crook of her neck.


	34. Go. Be Great.

Lance shivered as he finished restocking the microwave pizzas and hurried out of the frozen food section. He looked at his watch again, as if time would somehow move faster if he checked every few minutes. If anything, time always seemed to move slower in the tiny convenience store. It was still a couple hours before his shift ended.

A tall girl shuffled to his side, looking timid and embarrassed. “Um, excuse me…?” She swallowed hard. “Could you tell where the spices are?”

Lance flashed her his nicest customer service smile and pointed toward the front of the store. “Aisle two, miss, do you need me to show you?”

“Nonono! Thank you!” The girl practically ran away and Lance mentally shrugged. At least she was polite. He’d had far worse customer interactions.

He’d almost reached the break room when the loudspeaker crackled to life. Rolo’s bored voice cut in and out through the static. _“Cle- up on aisl- ten.”_

James was at the register and Shay was busy in the back. Sighing, Lance mosied over to aisle ten. He only hoped that it wasn’t vomit or blood, he didn’t feel like dealing with either at the moment.

To his relief, it was only an overturned flat of bottled water, some of which had burst open and formed a large puddle on the floor. He grabbed a roll of paper towels from the supply closet. It took more time than it should have for him to gather the water bottles and wipe up the floor.

Just yesterday Tía Lupe had asked, _“What are your plans after graduation, Lance?”_

Lance had smiled that smile he used on adults and said, _“I’m taking a gap year, saving up money.”_

And Tía Lupe had smiled back and patted his shoulder in approval, telling him what a sensible boy he was.

Yeah, sure. Lance was saving up money, he just didn’t know what for. He wadded up the sopping paper towels and threw them into the nearest garbage can.

Hunk was already getting ready for a summer internship in Arizona, and after that, he was going to Caltech with a dozen scholarships under his belt. Lance was happy for him, really, he just wished there was more time for them to hang out before Hunk left.

Pattering footsteps were the only warning he got before a small body crashed into his back and wrapped thin arms around his ribcage, squeezing the breath out of him.

“Pidge!” he gasped. She never visited him during his shift. The smallest whiff of inappropriateness had the manager breathing down Lance’s neck for the rest of the day.

Pidge let him go and spun him around, practically ablaze with energy. Her hair is a mini lion’s mane (Lance resisted the urge to run his fingers through it) and she couldn’t stop _bouncing._ Her grin, already beautiful under normal circumstances, blinded him now. He had to look away, focused instead on the creamy white letter she clutched in one hand.

A punched out breathed escaped. He looked at the red and grey logo stamped at the top right corner of the letter, the crisp black letters that shook from Pidge’s too tight grip. “You’re kidding,” he breathed.

“MIT!” Pidge squealed, throwing her hands in the air.

Lance dropped the paper towel roll and scooped her up, spinning them both until they were dizzy. Pidge’s giggles echoed in his ears, her hands tangled in his hair and shirt. He finally let her feet touch the ground once his own started wobbling.

Pidge sighed and pressed the letter to her chest. “I’m so happy.” Leaning back, she finally looked around. A small group of shoppers was watching their little display with growing interest. “Oh, sorry. I just wanted to tell you.”

Lance poked her cheek. “Of course. We’ll celebrate in two hours.”

He half-expected the soft kiss she pressed against the corner of his mouth, but it still left him cross-eyed. She pulled away sooner than he would have liked. “Two hours,” she reaffirmed.

The customers watched her go, but he’d already headed to the next aisle. He leaned against one of the shelves.

Massachusetts was a long ways away. Farther than California even.


	35. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prequel to Chapter 33.

Keith’s injuries were completely healed in less than a week, something that baffled the Garrison doctors. Krolia was less surprised.

“We Galra are adapted to heal faster than most other species,” she’d said upon his release from bed rest. 

As soon as he changed out of the hospital gown Keith decided to check on the team in person. Allura’s room was closest, and he spent a few minutes letting the mice check him over. Allura herself seemed somber. He caught glimpses of a reflective melancholy behind her diplomatic mask. Coran drove him out before they got a chance to really talk on the grounds that the princess needed more rest.

Lance’s room was next. Keith raised a hand to knock on his door before realizing it was already ajar. He gripped the doorknob, pausing when he heard snippets of a quiet conversation. Peeking inside, he saw Pidge and Lance sitting on the edge of the bed.

“-really worried,” Pidge was saying, staring at her intertwined hands. “You and Veronica almost died.”

Lance looked too tired, but he tried smiling anyway. “Yeah, it was crazy for a few minutes there.”

Pidge eyed him askance. “What happened? Why did it take so long for Red to reach you?”

That was a good question. Keith leaned in a bit, trying to ignore how awkwardly creepy he felt listening in on a private conversation between two of his best friends.

For a solid ten seconds, Lance made no move to respond. His hand reflexively grabbed and twisted at the hospital sheets. “I don’t know. Red and I have never had that good of a connection.”

Keith and Pidge frowned. “Well, maybe you should work on that. Quiznack Lance, this is- what, the third time now we’ve nearly lost you?” Pidge’s voice had risen to a near shout, something she wasn’t conscious of if the concern in her eyes was to be believed.

Lance’s shoulders hunched, and the curve of his jaw hardened. _You think I haven’t been trying?_ his expression screamed back. Finally, he managed a shadow of his crooked smirk. “Yeah, well, guess I can’t help flirting with death. They don’t call me Loverboy Lance for noth-”

“Lance!”

Pidge was standing now, her hands clenched into fists. Lance looked up at her furious grimace, then his eyes glazed over and he turned away.

“Pidge, I’m really tired. Can we talk about this later?”

“Wait, Lance-”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, ducking down so their foreheads gently knocked together. Lance didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just… so _scared_ of losing you.”

That got his attention. He watched a tear slip down her cheek in stupefied awe, let her tilt his chin up.

Keith saw that glint in Pidge’s eye, the one that made her so dangerous, just before she swooped down to capture Lance in a kiss. Lance’s muffled gasp echoed through the room, quickly replaced by a sigh as he melted against her.

Blushing a bit, Keith tip-toed away. He’d check on Hunk first.


	36. Hidden Cove - 4

Cuddling was different when they both had legs. Lance sighed and snuggled further into the crook of Pidge’s neck. She wrapped her arms tighter around the small of his back and wiggled until one of her legs was wrapped around his waist. He stretched out his foot and rubbed it against the gritty texture of the beach towel they were sprawled over.

Lance could hear the ocean lapping at the beach only a yard away, but that didn’t matter. He was exhausted, sated, and sleepy. Nothing existed except for the warm sand, the rough towel, and Pidge’s cool breaths ruffling his hair.

He grinned for the millionth time that day and licked his lips. The faint taste of barbecue sauce lingered, a pleasant reminder of their dinner. He’d stripped off his new shirt once they’d returned to the beach and Pidge was using it as a pillow. She shifted and something pointy poked into his cheek. Lance opened an eye, smirked, and rearranged her necklace so the green crystals weren’t pressing against him.

“The sun is setting,” Pidge murmured. She tried to sit up, but Lance whined and clung to her like an octopus.

She pinched his side and he sprang back with a yelp. Lance rolled over and glared at the horizon. Almost half of the sun had already dipped below the ocean, bleeding its reds and oranges into the waves. His stomach started to roil with nausea. The unpleasant sensation grew until he was a bundle of nerves and magic.

“Don’t you need to, uh…?” she gingerly tapped the waistband of his pilfered shorts. Lance nodded and pulled them off, ignoring Pidge’s gasp and hurried scooching as she floundered away from him.

The curdling feeling in his gut was traveling lower and seizing up his legs with cramps. Thin tendrils of pain laced up his arms and encircled his neck. It was hard to breathe. His throat swelled and he started choking on the salty air. Pidge’s hand reached out and tangled into his hair. She leaned over him, those beautiful brown eyes wide with concern and… curiosity. Huh.

Pidge whispered comforting nonsense into his ear, and he clung to each syllable until the sun disappeared completely and his vision whited out. 

* * *

 

Allura clutched her bag close to her chest, not wanting it to drag behind and possibly get tangled as she skimmed over the reef. The sand sloped upwards, leading to the surface and the beach. Shiro waited for her at the edge of the reef. His shoulders were hunched, and he kept glancing up.

“Did you see him?” she asked. 

Shiro shook his head. “He’s not in any of the waters around here.” 

Allura gave a harsh sigh, a few bubbles wobbling toward the surface. “Of course he isn’t.”

Shiro ducked his head and rubbed it against hers, partly to comfort and partly to be comforted. Her gaze dropped to the place where his right hand and forearm should have been. Of all the mers in the clan, he knew the dangers that dwelt above the ocean. 

* * *

 

Pidge cradled Lance’s head in her lap while he slowly came to. His tail was turning indigo in the fading twilight, and when she ran a finger over the smooth scales it twitched. She turned her attention back his face (something Lance would surely joke about if he were conscious), leaning down to bestow soft kisses on the ticklish patches of scales on his cheeks and chin. He squirmed a bit, scrunching up his nose, and Pidge chuckled. Lance the human had been a wonderful experience, and today was one of the happiest she could remember, but she preferred Lance the mer far more. 

“What’s so funny?” he mumbled. She helped him sit up and lean against her shoulder. He fiddled with the pearls on her necklace in sleepy contentment. 

She was going to miss him so much. The realization stung at her eyes and she swallowed a sob before he could notice. Not seeing him for a whole year was going to be… hard. 

“Absolutely remarkable.” 

Dread seeped down her spine. She and Lance turned to stare in mute horror at Lotor as he stepped out from behind a rock outcropping. The manic gleam from before was back, and he stared at Lance with unholy fervor. 

_How had he-?_

He took a step towards them, galvanizing Pidge out of her torpor. She sprang to her feet with a snarl, planting herself between him and Lance. “Go away!” she yelled. (One foot nudged Lance’s arm, she hoped he’d get the message.)  

“I’ve been scouring the ocean for five years,” Lotor said, completely ignoring her, unhurried and unruffled. “Ever since a report landed on my desk about two fishermen catching what they called “one of the merfolk” off of this very coast. Unfortunately, those dunces couldn’t keep a hold of it.” 

Lance gasped. Pidge risked looked over her shoulder and saw one of his hands clawing into the sand. His lips tightened into a furious scowl. She nudged him again. “Lance! Go!” 

“But it’s been well worth the wait. Who would have thought the myths about merfolk walking on land were true?” Lotor cocked his head and smiled. “I’m eager to find out how _that_ works.” 

“Over my dead body!” Pidge hissed. 

Lotor tsked. “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

Lance gasped again, this time in pain, and fell on his side. A bright red dart poked out of his shoulder. Pidge crouched next to him and ripped it out, flinging it toward Lotor. It missed spectacularly. 

“Lance, get in the water,” Pidge ordered, hooking her arms under him and trying to drag him toward the safety of the ocean. He did his best to help, though his movements were already becoming sluggish and his eyes hazy. 

“Pidge-” he groaned, pointing a shaking finger over her shoulder. 

A large hand gripped the back of Pidge’s shirt and yanked her into the air. The sky and sea blurred into a gradient of reddish purple and navy blue before she landed face first in the sand. She didn’t move for a few seconds, her thoughts stunned and her head throbbing. But Lance started screaming so she had to get up. 

The two women from before, the giant and the one who was now holding a dart gun, were bundling Lance into a net. He bit and spat at them, his powerful tail knocking against their legs and hips until they let go and backed away. By now he was too tangled up in the net to move properly. His chest heaved and his head bobbed in erratic patterns. 

Pidge staggered toward them. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” 

Lotor intercepted her, his smugness giving way to irritation. He raised his hand, then…

She woke with blood and sand in her mouth.

It was so dark that for a moment she feared she’d gone blind, but when she groaned and rolled over she saw starry pinpricks high above in the purple sky. She took a moment to wipe the sand off her tongue and teeth. Her temples screamed at the lightest touch, and sitting up left her hunched over in a soundless gasp. 

Once the pain had settled into a low grumble, she looked around in bleary bewilderment. The beach was empty. 

“Lance?” she croaked, crawling over to where their towel should have been. All she found was damp sand and tracks leading off toward the center off the island. She could see three sets of footprints and the scuff marks of something large being dragged behind them. 

“Lance…” 

Her arms gave out and she crumpled. Trembling, uncontrollable sobs wavered out of her dry throat, muffled and heartbroken. 

“Come back,” she whimpered. 

As if in response to her grief, the ocean surged. The rippling surf lapping at her fingertips swelled into a wave that swept her up and slammed her back on the shore. Pidge spluttered and choked on seawater, scrambling away to higher ground. Another wave washed over her before she could escape, and something heavy and breathing landed on her. 

Brilliant, glowing eyes stared her down as powerful arms and a heavy tail pinned Pidge to the ground. They were so unnaturally bright, brighter than the bioluminescent streaks in her tail, that they illuminated her striking face and long white hair. Pidge cringed back from the murderous hatred in the mermaid’s glare. 

“Wha- Who-?” she whispered, clamping her mouth shut when the mermaid hissed.

That deadly gaze fell to her neck, and some of the homicidal intent smoothed away as the mer reached out to poke Pidge’s necklace. “…Where did you get this?”


	37. Hissing and Scratching

“That was so stupid,” Pike hissed. Meklavar rolled her eyes and winced when he tightened the bandages around her waist. Red spots blossomed on the white cloth, the last bits of evidence of the large gashes in her side. Pike’s ears were flat against his skull and he was bristling, but even so, he tied off the bandage with undeserved care.

Meklavar grinned and leaned in for a kiss. He backed away and stalked into the underbrush before she could blink. She leaned back on the boulder he’d (rather roughly) set her down on and grimaced. “My hero!” she yelled, sarcasm oozing into her voice to hide the sting in her chest. 

“Stay there! I’m gonna catch dinner,” Pike retorted, barely glancing over his shoulder. His pupils had narrowed to slits, and the animalistic anger she saw in his eyes cut off any rejoinder she might have made. 

She waited, annoying as it was. Pike returned a dobosh later with a load of firewood, which he dumped to the ground with little grace, before disappearing back into the woods. Meklavar pulled out her axe and a scrap of cloth, carefully wiping the sticky green blood off the blade before reaching for her whetstone. A memory resurfaced, the befuddled look on that first goblin’s face when she’d jumped him, and she chuckled. 

The little brute had been threatening a couple of timid gnomes to pay him protection money when she’d wandered into their shop. Knocking him to the ground and throwing him out had been easy, fighting off his gang had been… complicated. They’d ambushed her in a dark alley the next day, pinning her to the ground and trying to pierce her heavy armor with their daggers. 

_An enraged growl - no, a roar - filled the alleyway. Two goblins screeched as Pike picked them up and hurled them into a heap of rubbish. The rest of the gang turned to face him, and Meklavar took the opportunity to cleave the leader in half. He fell with a gurgling plea for help, but she’d knocked the others off and was on her feet before they could react.  
_

_It was a total rout. Trapped between her swinging axes and Pike’s deadly kunai, the goblins became little more than fish in a barrel. Two or three managed to slip under Pike’s reach and run away. Except for one, who turned at the last second and pulled out a scimitar. He snarled and swung at Pike’s unprotected back.  
_

_Meklavar pushed him out of the way, of course. Her armor was made of the finest dwarven steel, and more than a match for goblin swords… unless they happened to be enchanted.  
_

_The goblin got four good hits on her before she parried and beheaded him. Pike scooped her up and started running, telling her to shush until they got out of town and away from any more trouble._

But still, she wasn’t all the worse for wear. The sting from the cuts was already starting to fade, Pike’s herbs were working their magic. 

A brace of rabbits landed on her lap, most of them still warm. Her lip curled in a disgusted pout and she glared at Pike. He ignored her and started setting the firewood into a teepee arrangement. Some of his anger appeared to be fading, his ears were no longer pinned back and his lips had smoothed into a neutral expression.

Meklavar flung the rabbits back at his head, he snatched them out of the air without taking his eyes off the fire. 

They coexisted in stony silence while Pike skinned and cooked the rabbits on a spit. Eventually, the delicious scent was enough to coax Meklavar from her perch and she sat on the other side of the campfire. She stared him down over the flames until he handed her a portion. The meat was good, delicious actually, and it made her furious. It didn’t help that Pike was studiously avoiding eye contact. 

After five doboshes with nothing but the crackling fire and her own chewing for company, she broke. 

“So… are you planning on ignoring me until we get back to the others, or is this a long-term sulk?” 

One of his ears twitched. Pike cracked open a few bones and started sucking out the marrow. 

Narrowing her eyes, Meklavar stood and circumnavigated the fire until she could look down on him properly. “What exactly is it that’s got your whiskers in a knot, huh? Was is me protecting you? Me getting hurt? Because I’ve been fighting ever since I could hold an axe; injuries are an occupational hazard. And we’re partners, I wasn’t going to stand by and let some goblin cut you in two!” 

“I know that,” Pike said, tossing the bones into the fire. “I also know you should never pick on a goblin chief unless you want to be murdered in the near future.” 

Meklavar threw her hands into the air. “He was harassing the innocent! Was I just supposed to leave him be and do nothing?!”

He snorted. “No, I’ve been with you long enough to know that option doesn’t exist in your mind. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

“Fine. I’m not asking you to be happy about it.”

Pike’s ear twitched again. He scooted away when she leaned in. Meklavar lingered over the rigid muscles in his back and the thrashing tail. “That’s not what’s really bothering you,” she murmured. 

“A lot of things bother me. You, for one.” 

She smirked. Pike’s evasions were too easy to spot. “Mmhmm. That’s why you kiss and cuddle with me, right? To lower my guard until you see the perfect opportunity to strike.” 

The thought seemed to bother him more than she expected. Crossing his arms, he leaned down until his chest was pressed against his knees. “Mek, can we just drop it?” he pleaded, muffled and tired behind his scarf. “I’m sorry, okay?” 

She reached out to stroke his ears, pausing for a moment to listen for angry rumbling. If he truly was angry with her, any attempt at petting would result in furious growls or a scratched hand. When he didn’t so much as squeak out a protest, she sank her fingers into his soft hair and rubbed the tense knobs at the base of his ears. An involuntary purr escaped and he buried his blushing face completely into the scarf. 

“Pike, what’s wrong?” she coaxed, her soothing ministrations trailing lower to his neck and back. Like any good cat, his spine arched and bowed, forcing him to look up at her. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Meklavar bent down and kissed the corner of each eye. 

“Love, you can tell me anything.” 

He didn’t answer right away. One hand tugged absentmindedly at the gold bangle he always wore. 

“I’m… so afraid,” he finally whispered, the last few syllables dipping dangerously close to a sob. “No one’s cared about me for a long time, and I-I haven’t really cared about anyone either. It’s just been me ever since I was a kid. But now I have you, and Block, and Jiro a-and Valayun…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to lose this.” 

Meklavar sank to her knees and pressed her forehead against his.

“And I _know_ you can take care of yourself! I _know_ this. You’re an incredible warrior, and I trust you with my life. I even love your stupid heroic tendencies. You don’t- This is my problem, and I’m sorry-” 

“Shush.” 

Pike sank into her hold with a trembling sigh. The purring returned in full force when she kissed the tip of his nose. “I don’t want to lose you either,” she said. “But if we keep looking out for each other I don’t think that’ll happen any time soon.” 

He blinked and laughed - a weak and wobbly thing but a laugh nonetheless. “How are you so brave?” he marveled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal hc is that Pike was orphaned at a young age. Poor touch-starved bby.


	38. Get Star Wrecked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *throws a Plance Star Trek TOS AU at you*

The call, though not unexpected, was rather inopportune. Katie checked her watch and noted the time. She had planned on arriving at the transporter room two minutes ahead of schedule, but she could spare ninety seconds for this. Returning to her desk, she turned on the small visual screen.

Her father’s smile flickered into view, and she suppressed the rush of fondness gathering in her ribs. Samuel Holt leaned in, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Pidge! I’m glad I caught you. I thought I- Did you cut your hair?”

Unbidden, her hand ruffled through her now chin-length hair and tucked a bit behind a pointed ear. “Yes.”

Samuel blinked. “What for? I mean it looks great, of course-”

Katie shook her head. “It’s not a cosmetic change, Samuel. This haircut is far more practical. I wish to be as efficient as possible.”

“You’re nervous.” Grinning, Samuel readjusted his glasses. “Of course you are, it’s your first day on the job.”

Ah, here it was. She’d expected this as well. “On the contrary, I see no reason to be nervous. I have proved myself to be qualified for the tasks assigned to me.”

Misty-eyed, Samuel sat back in his chair. “That you have. My little Pidge, the Second Officer of the _USS Quintessence_.”

“Science Officer-”

“We’re so proud of you.” He turned to his right and yelled, “Aren’t we, honey?”

Her mother’s cool voice answered. “Pride is a human emotion, Samuel, and unless I’ve incorrectly converted our time to that of Earth’s I believe you’re making her late on her first day.”

_Thank you, Co'lleen._ “I’m afraid Co'lleen is right, Samuel. I must leave in exactly twenty seconds or risk arriving late. The _Quintessence_ is already in orbit and awaiting my arrival.”

Samuel sighed. “I can’t argue with the two of you. I love you, Pidge. Have a good first day and good luck!”

“Luck will have little to do with-”

He hung up before Katie could finish.

Commander Iverson was waiting for her in the Academy transporter room. “Right on time,” he grunted. Katie clasped her hands behind her back, unsure if he wanted an answer. She had never seen eye to eye with the commander, he was, in her opinion, far too rooted in both tradition and an illogical code of honor. He, for his part, had made it quite clear he didn’t appreciate her tendency to argue a point.

“Well, I know you’re not one for goodbyes. Let’s skip the formalities and get you to your post.” He waved her to the transporter and for once she obeyed without complaint. There was no need for ceremony, Katie was glad he recognized that.

Once she was in position Iverson nodded to the transporter chief. He checked the coordinates and started the energizing sequence. Katie’s vision faded into a golden smudge.

In the 2.576 seconds it took for her body to reconvert to matter, Katie made note of her surroundings. This transporter room was typical of a Constitutional-class starship, and two entirely new humans stood behind the control panel. One of them rushed to meet her as she stepped down from the transporter. He introduced himself with a vigorous handshake. “Hi, the name’s Hunk, Chief Engineer. You must be Katie Holt.”

Katie pried her hand away and craned her head back to properly meet his gaze. “Yes, I am.” She looked around, the other human waved. “Perhaps you could tell me where I may report to the captain? I would like to begin my official duties as soon as possible.”

Hunk winced and rubbed the back of his head. “Riiiight. Keith would have been here to greet you himself, but… uh, he’s in the sickbay. Still need to fix the holodeck,” he muttered the last part under his breath.

“I see.” Katie pursed her lips. Her introduction was already proving to be… outside the realm of probability.

“I’ll take you there,” Hunk offered. “He’ll want to see you regardless.”

Shaking her head, Katie made for the door. “No need, I’ve already familiarized myself with the layout of this ship.”

“Oh…kay. See you at dinner, Katie.”

She paused and looked over her shoulder. “I’d appreciate it if you referred to me as ‘Ms. Holt’.” Hunk blinked twice before nodding.

Several crew members stared at her in passing, which, while somewhat disconcerting, was understandable. As of today, she was the first and only Vulcan officer on the Quintessence. Her pointed ears and sharp eyebrows would be quite the oddity for some time. Thankfully, the elevator was empty when she stepped inside and remained so until she had reached the sickbay.

A nurse looked up in surprise before hurriedly returning to her computer analysis. All of the biobeds lining the walls were empty save for one in the far corner. Katie recognized the man lying there from his profile. This was Captain Kogane, one of the youngest and most skilled officers of this generation. Another man in the blue uniform of a doctor stood over him, checking his vitals.

She approached slowly, not wishing to disturb the doctor’s examination. The captain’s face was flushed and sweaty strands of black hair clung to his neck. His chest heaved with exertion. Katie’s first diagnosis would have been a fever brought on by illness, but Hunk’s comment led her to believe he was suffering from a different malady altogether.

The doctor finally took notice of her when she was practically at the foot of the bed. He was, by human standards, an attractive man with a lean build and symmetrical facial features, but Katie was more interested in his eyes. Their blue pigmentation was a genetic anomaly given his darker skin tone and hair. Those eyes spent a few seconds looking her up and down, lingering on her ears before cracking a smile. “You’re our new Second Officer?”

Katie corrected him immediately. “Science Officer, to be precise. What’s wrong with Captain Kogane?”

“Severe heat exhaustion. The holodeck malfunctioned and trapped him in a desert terrain.”

Another nurse bustled up with a bag of fluids, and the doctor began setting up an IV drip. Katie waited until he’d finished before asking, “I take it by your unperturbed attitude that your prognosis is favorable?”

The doctor smirked. “He’ll be fine once he’s hydrated, and maybe it’ll teach him not to train in the middle of the night when no one’s around to help. He was stuck in there until just thirty minutes ago.” It faded a bit as he studied the pained furrow in the captain’s brow. “Let’s get him some metorapan for that headache, not that he deserves it.”

“Shut up, McClain…”

Katie looked down in surprise. Captain Kogane was squinting up at them, his gaze sliding around until it landed on her. “Ms. Holt?”

Straightening, Katie nodded. “Hello, Captain Kogane.”

He tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by the doctor with a muttered, “Don’t you dare.”

“’m sorry I’m not in a better position to… welcome you…” he slurred, glaring at the doctor.

“And you’ll be even worse off when the painkillers kick in. Take my advice for once and get some rest,” the doctor snapped back.

Their rather cavalier dynamic took Katie by surprise. The flagrant disrespect displayed by the doctor would not have been tolerated by any other captain, she was sure. It was disconcerting, in all honesty. The senior officers of a starship should show more respect for the role of command.

The nurse returned with a hypospray and the doctor jabbed it into Captain Kogane’s neck with little grace. As Keith’s eyes glazed over, the doctor looked up at Katie. “The name’s Lance, by the way. Lance McClain.” He held out his hand. When she didn’t take it, he coughed and gestured to the dozing captain. “Since he’s out of commission, I could give you the grand tour and introduce you to everyone.”

Katie took a step back. “No thank you, Dr. McClain. I am already intimately aware of my duties. Seeing as Captain Kogane is currently unfit for duty, it falls upon me to take command. I am needed in the bridge, and as the Senior Medical Officer-” she paused and raised an eyebrow. “- _I presume_ , your place is here with your patient.”

Dr. McClain’s smile soured into a neutral expression. He shrugged and turned back to monitor the captain’s heart rate. “Whatever floats your boat, pointy ears.”

Katie narrowed her eyes. She opened her mouth to tell him… well, it wasn’t her place. Turning on her heel, she stalked away. Just before the door slid shut behind her, she heard him say, “Isn’t she only supposed to be half-Vulcan?”


	39. (No) Regrets

“I h-h-h-hate frost trolls. So much,” Meklavar sniffed. She sneezed four times in a row and immediately followed up with a fit of coughing so hoarse it set Pike’s teeth on edge. He winced in sympathy and gathered up a few more blankets from the linen closet. This inn, while not the nicest he’d ever slept in, did at least come with warm baths and comfortable beds - both of which Meklavar would need.

He hopped over the pile of discarded armor (under normal circumstances Meklavar would have spent half a varga looking over her equipment and checking for any wear and tear, and it was a testament to how sick she felt that she’d simply dumped it on the floor) and wrapped the extra blankets around her shoulders. At this point, she was so swaddled in quilts she looked a bit like a patchwork snowball, but she was still shivering like a leaf in a strong gale.

Pike tsked and picked her up, blankets and all, and carried her closer to the fireplace. He sat them both down on the rug and cuddled her close. “This is why I keep telling you not to pick fights,” he scolded, pushing some fabric away to get a better look at Meklavar’s pink nose.

“He had it coming,” she repeated for the fourth time that day. Another round of coughing left her wheezing. Pike’s ears flattened in displeasure and he rubbed her back.

“Yeah, well, until Block comes back from the apothecary maybe you should take the time to think about how you could have handled the situation differently.”

Meklavar glared at him for a moment before resting her forehead against his chest with a grumble. “Let me die in peace.”

Pike rolled his eyes. “So dramatic. It was barely a blizzard.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead.

She sighed and kissed his collarbone. “I love you.”

A shiver of joy ran up his spine. “I… yeah,” he mumbled, hiding his face in his scarf.


	40. Let It Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is this? A Modern AU? A post-s8 drabble? Idk, it's Christmasy.

Snowflakes fell in thick clumps against the window, their impacts barely a whisper against the sheer surface. A bit louder, the heady rumble of a snowplow dragged at the edges of Lance’s consciousness. But the thick warmth of two patchwork quilts (neither of them could stand the cold) and the slow breathing beside him quickly lulled him back to sleep.

…Until four little paws leaped onto his stomach and hot tuna breath blew right up his nostrils.

“Bluuuuuuue,” he whined, carefully picking up the squirming cat and setting her on the floor. She meowed and jumped onto the mattress again before licking his exposed chin.

Lance sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand and scratching Blue’s ears with the other. “Such a needy baby.” She started purring and butted her head against his hand, a facade of innocence she’d perfected in her kittenhood. Beside him, the lump under the blankets stirred.

“Okay, time for breakfast before you wake Mama,” he murmured, scooping Blue into his arms and sliding into his slippers.

The morning was overcast, pale grey light muted shadows in the hallway and stairs as he headed for the kitchen. He refilled Blue’s water bowl and opened a can of Fancy Feast. All the while Blue _mrrted_ and twined herself around his legs, nearly tripping him up several times until he set the can down.

One cup of hot cocoa later found him wandering into the living room. Lance flicked a switch and the lights on their Christmas tree, tucked away in the corner, blinked to life. He took a moment to breathe in its crisp pine scent before snagging one of the many candy canes hanging from the branches. It took him half a minute to peel away the plastic wrapping, his fingers still clumsy with sleep. Finally, he tore through the deceptively tough plastic and stirred his cocoa with the candy cane, his gaze wandering to the windows.

It had snowed again last night, just like the night before, but only a few inches this time. Lucky for him - Lance was still sore from shoveling yesterday. A line of charcoal grey snow lined the edge of the yard, another bit of evidence that the snowplow had passed through recently.

It was so quiet. A true winter wonderland. He couldn’t even hear the boreal chickadees that usually chirped and whistled from their spot on the old birdfeeder. Lance usually wasn’t one for silence, he had too much energy to just sit and be, but today…

The phone rang.

“Seriously?” he groused. “Who calls at-?” he glanced at the wall clock. Oh, it was nearly eleven. No wonder Blue was so pushy.

He grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

_“Hey, Lance.”_

Lance grinned and plopped onto the couch. “Sup, Hunk?”

_“What happened to our brunch?” Hunk_ asked, his voice edging toward annoyance.

“O-oh…” Was that today? Hadn’t they set the date for Sund-

Right, it was Sunday.

“Ummmmmmm… Didn’t we say we’d meet at twelve?”

Hunk’s harsh breath came across as a cloud of static. _“No, Lance. That would be lunch. Brunch is between ten and eleven.”_ A sigh, followed by the muted clang of pots. _“Actually, it’s kind of a good thing you guys are late_ \- as usual - _I accidentally burned the first batch of fa'apapa.”_

Lance’s stomach twinged, reminding him that he’d only had a cup of hot chocolate so far. Hunk’s meals were always the best, and they’d been planning this brunch for a while. Still… There were so many things that had to be done before he could sit down and enjoy it. Getting up, for starters, that alone would be a Herculean effort. Then there was the task of climbing up the stairs and getting dressed. And, of course, he’d have to comb his hair and make sure he was presentable. After that, he’d have to brave the harsh winter weather - sure, things looked calm enough now, but at any moment a storm could appear, sweeping him away to his doom.

And that was just him.

“I don’t think we can make it, Hunk,” he said, trying to sound sorry (and he really was).

_“What? Dude, come on. I made enough for four.”_

“Shay loves leftovers.” Lance rolled his eyes at his friend’s annoyed groan. “We’re basically snowed in! I don’t like the look of the roads.”

_“Lance. You live right across from us.”_

Lance looked out the window. Across the street, he could see Hunk glaring at him from his kitchen window, his orange bandana a stark streak of color against a world of whites and greys. Lance ducked behind the couch and flicked the blinds shut.

_“Lance!”_

“I’m sorry, Hunk! I just… think she needs her beauty sleep more.” It had been a while since she’d slept so deeply, and Lance was loath to interrupt it.

A pregnant pause followed (ha) before Hunk replied. _“Fiiiine, we’ll reschedule. You’re lucky my family’s coming over later today.”_

“Ooh, fun! Say hi to your mom for me.”

Hunk hung up on him. Rude.

Having finished her own breakfast, Blue wandered into the living room and jumped on Lance’s lap. He cuddled with her for half an hour until she got bored and he got drowsy again. He trudged up the stairs, back to his cozy bed.

He pulled back the blankets just enough to get a peek at Pidge’s face. Her nose scrunched up for a moment before she rolled to her other side with a heavy lurch. Lance settled in behind her, spooning her small frame against his. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and let his fingers trace the swell of her stomach. Nearly nine months, only a week or so to go.


	41. Take Your Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a Pikelavar one-shot featuring an attempted kidnapping and lots of emotional angst but it never really got off the ground. So... here.

About a week into her visit, it became abundantly clear to Valayun that Lenore wasn't the only one traumatized by her ordeal.   
  
Meklavar, for all the physical injuries she'd sustained defending her child, seemed the most sound in spirit and mind. No doubt the latent resilience that came with her dwarven lineage helped in that regard. Pike, on the other hand...   
  
She didn't put two and two together until she sat with Meklavar one evening, both of them brooding over their tea. Meklavar wasn't a tea drinker, but Valayun had convinced her stubborn friend that it would help with the lingering anxiety that kept her up at night. How awful it must be, she thought, to look around your home, a place that should be safe, and remember how that safety was violated.   
  
"Lenore seems to be doing better," Meklavar commented. She took a swig of tea and made a face.   
  
Valayun tilted her head to the side and considered Meklavar's statement. It was true, to an extent. As a ranger, she possessed an intimate knowledge of animals that often translated well into her interactions with people - especially the tabaxi clans. Her method of basically ignoring Lenore and letting the child acclimatize to her presence seemed to be working.  Lenore had stopped hissing at her whenever she approached and would now leave Meklavar's side for a few minutes at a time.   
  
The resultant chink of the cup against the table seemed too loud for such a quiet room, even with the crackle of the hearth. "Lenore is strong, she'll recover soon enough," Valayun finally answered.   
  
Meklavar sighed and settled further into her armchair. "Well, that makes one of us."   
  
The heavy bags under Meklavar's eyes were concerning. "You should sleep."  
  
"I don't want to sleep." Meklavar pouted and scratched the back of her neck. "I hate sleeping in an empty bed."   
  
Valayun raised an eyebrow and looked around. The small cottage provided few hiding places. "Where's Pike?"   
  
Meklavar pointed up.   
  
"...The roof?"   
  
"Yup."   
  
That... wasn't all that surprising actually. Pike had an affinity for any perch that gave him an unimpeded view of his surroundings. Given the recent... incident, it made sense he'd want to keep a watchful eye over his home. It would also explain why she hadn't seen much of him in the last few days.  
  
"He's been staying up all night? For how long?"   
  
Meklavar shrugged. "Ever since we got back?"   
  
Guilt twinged through Valayun's chest. She was here to help them recover, but in her endeavors to help the frightened child and wounded mother, she'd forgotten the grieving father.   
  
"Well, he's not doing it tonight," she muttered, standing up and heading for the door. She grabbed her bow and quiver on the way. "Go to bed, Mek, he'll join you in a few doboshes."   
  
It was a simple matter to balance on the water barrel and climb onto the roof. With a light spring, she landed next to Pike's still form. He barely acknowledged her presence with an ear twitch, his eyes fixed on the surrounding forest.   
  
"Pike."   
  
He ignored her. She could see a muscle jumping in his jaw and the hunched uneasiness in his spine. He had bags under his eyes too, how had she missed that?   
  
"Pike."   
  
"Mm."  
  
"Go to bed."   
  
He finally glanced at her. "In a minute."  
  
Valayun gestured to her bow. "I'll keep guard tonight. You go to bed."   
  
"No." He shook his head. "You already take care of Mek and Lenore."  
  
"Pike."  
  
She grabbed his ragged red scarf and pulled him close. Pike hissed and bared his teeth, his pupils narrowing to slits. Valayun hissed back. "Running yourself ragged won't protect your family! Do you really think you could fight off anyone right now, in this condition? Look at yourself!"   
  
Pike slumped, unable to form an argument. Weariness gripped all of his limbs, leaving him unable to make more than a feeble protest. "But..."   
  
"Pike, get off this roof and go sleep with your wife," Valayun commanded, releasing her grip and leaning back. The double entendre didn't occur to her until a hint of his devil-may-care grin flickered across his face.   
  
"I mean..."   
  
"That's not what I meant!" Valayun huffed, looking away and blushing.   
  
Meklavar's voice drifted up from the side of the house. "I wouldn't mind, to be honest."   
  
The two of them crawled to the edge of the roof and peered down. Meklavar's head poked through her bedroom window, regarding them with a smirk. Her smile softened the next tick and she held up a hand towards her husband. "Come to bed, love," she whispered.   
  
Pike's gaze flitted from one woman to the other before he groaned and surrendered completely. "Alright."


	42. Hidden Cove - 5

The first sensation he was aware of was the strange smell. Too clean. His home was full of smells, brine punctuated with the scents of fish and underwater plants and something else Lance could only describe as the ocean itself. The water he was submerged in now had none of those scents. Sure, it was salty, but even the salt tasted fake.

One by one, the rest of his senses returned to him. Whatever had put him into such an unnatural sleep finally released its grip and Lance could open his eyes. White sand glared up at him, and when he dug his hand into it his fingertips jammed against something hard. He brushed away the sand until a patch of smooth metal came into view. Weird.

Weirder still, he couldn’t feel the usual push-pull that came with being underwater. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a current. Looking around, Lance realized he was floating in a large tube of water. Perfectly circular, it was about as long as a humpback whale from one end to another and covered in a smooth plane of the artificial-looking white sand. A rocky outcropping surrounded by a thick patch of kelp was the only break in the monotony. Lance pressed a hand against the glass, then lightly tapped at it. He couldn’t see whatever lay beyond, it was too dark. The only source of light came from above, too harsh and unyielding to be the sun. The surface of the water rippled twenty feet above him, but Lance didn’t dare reach for it.

Shudders roiled through his body in thick waves, aftershocks of his earlier terror. He’d been taken, dragged away from the sea as his mind was pulled under by whatever they’d shot into his system. His shoulder still ached.

“Hello?” he whispered. No one answered, of course. He was completely alone. Where was Pidge? What had they done to her? And where was he? What was this place?

He swam into the kelp bed hoping to find some sort of shelter. To his surprise, he discovered a tiny cave hidden beneath the rocks and squirmed inside. It was deliciously cool and dark, and if he adjusted himself just so he could rest without any sharp edges poking at him. Already he felt tired again, but whether it was natural or not he couldn’t tell.

He wished Veronica was here.

***

She was expecting her parents to wait up for her, she just wasn’t expecting their reactions.

“Young lady, where have you- What happened?!” her father gasped.

Pidge didn’t quite understand what he meant until her mother leaped from one of the kitchen chairs and cupped Pidge’s face in her hands. A twinge of pain ran up her cheek, and when her mother pulled away she saw a bit of blood smeared on her palm.

Right, she’d been pummelled into the ground.

“What happened, were you attacked?” her mother demanded. Colleen Holt was quietly formidable at the best of times, and now she looked positively livid.

Matt emerged from his room yawning and rubbing his eyes. He froze when he saw Pidge. “What the hell? Were you mugged?!” he shouted.

Sort of. Pidge caught a glimpse of her reflection on the stainless steel refrigerator. Her hair was matted with sand and dried sea salt, framing her swollen cheeks and purpling black eye. A line of blood had coagulated just under her nose and above her cracked lips. What a mess.

“Pidge, what happened?” her father repeated, beckoning her to sit down and gosh, she was exhausted and would love nothing more than to sleep through the whole day. But she couldn’t, not when Lance-

Lance needed-

He was-

Colleen gasped and hugged her tight to her chest, muffling her sobs. Her father and Matt crowded in until she was surrounded and safe on all sides. Her body jerked with the force of her sorrow, so much so her throat and chest began to ache from the effort. She stood there, barefoot, covered in sand and bruises, until every emotion had run its course and she could think clearly again. 

She hadn’t come here to cry her eyes out.

“Honey-” her mother began, but Pidge wiggled out of her reach and made for the door.

“Follow me.”

“Pidge!”

She sprinted into the darkness with her family’s clomping footsteps close behind. The sparse grass gave way to sand, then waves. She ran along the shoreline, ignoring her father’s pleas and her mother’s threats, back to the cove where- Pidge skidded to a stop.

Where _three_ mers waited for her.

***

Lance woke up later (there was no way to measure the passage of time in this place) with a clearer head and an empty belly. His arms and tail were stiff from their cramped conditions, so he spent the next few minutes digging out the bottom of the cave to make it a bit larger and more comfortable. This nook appeared to be his only place of refuge until he could escape. He might as well-

Chattering clicks and squeals, distant but tantalizingly close, reached his ears. Dolphins? Were there dolphins nearby? The noises died away for a second, then returned in full force from somewhere above him. Lance peaked his head out of the cave - no dolphins in sight - and looked up. The light source was situated directly over the tube, making it hard for him to see what lay on the surface.

The dolphin chatter continued, echoey and distorted. Perhaps there was another tank nearby.

Or it could be a trap.

Well, he was already trapped.

Feeling a bit braver, Lance swam toward the surface. He breached it slowly, just his eyes at first. The light cast bone thin shadows on a small ledge situated ten feet above him. Two faces peered down at him. One was new, with a pointed nose, bright eyes, and long hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She held a small rectangle in her hand, and when she fiddled with it the dolphin calls fell silent. 

The other, broad and gruff, was far too familiar. Lance hissed at the unfriendly giant.

“Ooh, he doesn’t like you, Zethrid!” Ponytail human giggled. 

Zethrid grunted and curled one of her meaty hands into a fist, save for the middle finger. Ponytail girl gasped in mock horror and nudged her. “Don’t teach him bad manners!”

“You monsters can’t teach me anything!” Lance shouted, rising until his chest and shoulders were above water. “Let me go!”

“He talks!”

“We told you that already, Ezor.”

Lance flipped onto his back and slapped the water with his tail. The resulting splash, while large, wasn’t anywhere big enough to reach the two humans. “I mean it! Let me go!”

“Or what, fishboy?” Zethrid shouted back, her lips curling into a harsh smirk.

(Could Lance jump the ten feet? Probably not, but he would pay dearly for the opportunity to drag Zethrid into the water and… well, maybe not _drown_ her…)

“I bet you’re hungry. What do merfolk eat?”

Lance blinked and looked up at Ezor. She tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. He pouted and stuck out his tongue, determined not to reply. His stomach rumbled out of spite.

Ezor disappeared for a moment and reappeared with something shiny and limp in her hand. “Don’t be like that, try this,” she wheedled, letting the object fall into the tank. It landed with a small splash and bobbed in the water.

A fish, already dead. What did they think he was, a shark?

He picked up the fish and flung it back at them. It missed his intended targets but landed next to them with a sickening splat. Ezor pouted. “Really?”

Zethrid leaned forward. “I bet he prefers to hunt his meals down himself.” Her smirk softened a bit. “I can respect that. Try some live fish next, we can’t let Lotor’s pet project starve.”

A sound - a creak? - diverted their attention and they both turned their backs on him. “Is it time to begin?” Ezor asked, her voice suddenly serious.

“Not quite yet,” a new voice replied, cool and clinical. “We’re spending the next two days simply observing the specimen while the lab analyzes its blood sample. Once the results come in, we’ll begin the first round of tests.”

Lance shivered and sank back into the water.


	43. Get Star Wrecked - 2

“Ka- Miss Holt!” 

Katie turned slowly, careful not to upset the bowl of soup on her tray. The Lieutenant Commander was waving at her from a table located right next to one of the large bay windows. He motioned for her to join him, pointing to an empty chair. 

Normally, Katie would spend her lunch - all of her meals, actually - in her quarters, playing a round of 3-dimensional chess against the computer. It was a chance to allow her body some rest while keeping her mind active before she resumed her duties, and it was a welcome reprieve from the roiling pot of unnecessary emotion she was finding this ship to be. However, her knowledge of her father’s behavior and habits led her to the logical conclusion that he would be calling soon to see how she was “settling in”, and she wanted to mitigate any concern he might have that she wasn’t getting along with her colleagues. In any case, it was only one meal. 

She weaved past the other tables in the mess hall and noted with some satisfaction that hardly any of the crew turned to stare at her. Her first week had filled her sharp ears with whispers and gossip which, while utterly inconsequential on her part, was not conducive with the smooth running of the ship. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” she said, sitting across from him. 

He rolled his eyes. “Please, Miss Holt, call me Hunk.” 

“Very well, Hunk.” She cut her roll in half and dipped it into her soup, taking care not to spill any on her uniform. Hunk took a bite of his steak and hmmed in satisfaction.

“You know, for reconstituted food, this is really something,” he said, reaching for a glass filled with something pink and probably caffeinated. 

“Every replicator produced for Federations is designed to perfectly mimic any meal in its database, there should be no noticeable difference.” Katie dipped the other half of her roll. “In any case, you were in charge of the modifications made to this particular replicator, were you not?” she asked, a hint of dryness in her voice. 

Hunk held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. But you’ve gotta understand how picky we humans are about our food. Just knowing it isn’t the real deal affects our palates. I think I’m allowed to brag a bit when I say none of the crew have complained about the food ever since I tweaked with the replicator.” 

“Interesting.” Katie tilted her head. “I understand the value of keeping up the crew’s morale, but such… "tweaking” seems unnecessary.“ 

"It didn’t cost much in the way of resources,” Hunk countered. “Just a few minutes and some wiring, really. I’d say the results were well worth it.” His gaze slid past her shoulder and settled on something behind her. “Hey, Lance!” He raised his hand again and waved. 

Something akin to resignation settled in Katie’s stomach as an all too familiar lanky figure waltz up and squeezed next to Hunk. “Hey buddy, how’s it hanging?” Lance’s grin faded a bit when he caught Katie’s eye. “Hey, Miss Holt.” 

Katie nodded and returned her attention back to her soup. She’d quickly observed that the Chief Medical Officer and Chief Engineer had a close bond, almost fraternal in nature. They spoke in an eclectic pseudolanguage with each other, made up of in-jokes and past experiences that rivaled the most complex codes. Perhaps she could find a socially acceptable excuse to leave in the following minutes. Her leaving the two to enjoy their lunch without her would be the most satisfactory outcome for all of them, she was sure. 

Hunk, however, seemed to have different ideas. “Miss Holt, I heard we’re heading out for Altea in a few days. Is that true?” 

She nodded. “Yes, Captain Kogane received the orders earlier today. We’ve been asked to help provide relief to one of Altea’s sister colonies. An unexpected drought has left them in need of supplies.” 

“But we’re stopping at Altea first?” Lance interjected. 

“Yes. We cannot deliver cargo that we do not first procure, Doctor.” Katie raised a thin, pointed eyebrow and watched him bite back a scowl. 

Hunk frowned in thought. “I’ve never been to Altea, and I don’t know much about the culture. Lance, I know you studied abroad there, and Alteans are kinda like cousins to Vulcans, right?” 

Katie pursed her lips. “Alteans and Vulcans share a common ancestor, but our cultures are vastly different. Much like humans, they rely on emotion to govern their actions - I understand that those who possess the power to manipulate Quintessence do so by emotional regulation.” She stopped there, choosing not to mention that Alteans were something of a quiet joke amongst Vulcans. Hunk deserved to make an unbiased judgment for himself. 

Lance grabbed his sandwich and took a vicious bite, mumbling between a mouthful, “Altea is amazing. I’ve never come across a society before or since that’s found such a perfect balance between functionality and comfort.” He sighed, his gaze wandering to the window and the sea of stars beyond. “Their hair-care products are to die for.” 

Katie’s quiet tsk snapped his attention back to her. “And I don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for you to be knocking emotion, Miss Holt. You are _half human,_ aren’t you?” 

Ah, the familiar argument. Katie cocked half a smile. “Yes, I am. Fortunately for me, my brain takes more after my Vulcan heritage. My two halves may war against each other, but it is my intellect that wins the day and makes them cooperate.” 

“By cooperate, you mean smothering your humanity, right?” Lance asked, his voice turning as sharp and clinical as his eyes. Hunk shifted and coughed. 

Her soup finished, Katie took a bite of her salad and chewed thoroughly before answering. “Well, Doctor, if you had a choice between living like a human - irrational, prone to anger and violence - or a Vulcan lifestyle of pure logic, which would you choose?” 

Lance leaned forward and opened his mouth, but Hunk interrupted before he could get more than an “I-!” out.

“So! I say the three of us take the opportunity to explore a bit while we’re there. Try out the local cuisine, do some shopping, you know…” he trailed off, looking from Lance to Katie. Lance had folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, glaring at Katie with a frustrated jut of his chin. 

Katie stood and grabbed her tray. “I’m afraid not. I’ll be needed on the ship, supervising the loading of the cargo and other logistics concerns.” She turned her back on the doctor for the second time in as many days and marched out of the room. 

* * *

 

The rest of the day passed without incident, mostly because the sickbay and bridge were on different decks. As expected, the call from her father came soon after she retired to her quarters for dinner. She adjusted the visual screen and accepted the call, leaning back in mild interest upon seeing both her father and mother waiting on the other end. 

“Pidge! How are you, dear?” Samuel gushed. “Are you settling in okay? What’s the crew like?” 

Katie held up a hand. “I am doing well, Samuel. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened to prevent me from performing my duties in a satisfactory manner.” She glanced at her mother, taking in Co'lleen’s cool nod.

“I understand you are the only Vulcan currently onboard, has that had any effect on your work?” she asked. 

“No, Co'lleen. I caught the interest of quite a few crewmen when I arrived, but now that they are used to my appearance they are nothing but professional.” _For the most part._

Both women sighed when Samuel asked, “Have you made any friends?” 

“There are a handful of colleagues I would not mind sharing an intellectual conversation with if that’s what you mean.” 

Samuel peered at her from over his glasses. It was the same stare he’d given her as a child when she’d gravely informed him that she didn’t understand his illogical responses to her questions. He glanced at the plate set before her and frowned. “Please don’t tell me you’re spending all of your meals cooped up in your room.” 

“Actually, I shared lunch with two colleagues today,” Katie answered.

“Who?” Samuel leaned forward again, entirely too eager. 

“The Chief Engineer and the Chief Medical Officer.” 

“What are their names?” 

A knock on her door provided unexpected relief. “Excuse me, I believe I am needed elsewhere.” 

“Okay, I’ll call you tomo-” She turned off the visual screen and went to the door. Upon opening it, she found the captain waiting in the hallway. 

“Hello, Miss Holt, I hope I not interrupting anything important,” Captain Kogane said, a hint of apology in his voice. 

Katie crossed her arms behind her back. “Nothing of importance, Captain. How may I help you?” 

He scratched the back of his head. “Nothing, really. I just thought I’d invite you to the lounge. The officers and I get together on quiet days and socialize.” His nose scrunched up near the end as if he found the idea as awkward and uncompelling as she did. 

A refusal gathered on the tip of her tongue, ready to turn down the offer, but her father’s frown wriggled to the forefront of her mind’s eye. 

_“Think of it as a study in behavior,” Co'lleen whispered. She and Katie stood on the steps of her elementary, a private school prided for both its educational programs and its diverse student population. Samuel had insisted Katie get the introduction to different cultures in her formative years that Matthew had been denied._

_“Not everyone you work with will be Vulcan, so you must learn to anticipate their actions, as illogical as they may be, and understanding how they think with help in that endeavor immensely.”  
_

“Thank you, Captain. I will join you in a few minutes.” 

* * *

 

The overhead lights had been dimmed, leaving the lounge in comfortable semidarkness save for one lamp on the coffee table. Three large, comfortable couches were situated around it, and ten or so officers were huddled together and talking quietly. The Captain smiled as Katie entered. “Glad you could join us, Miss Holt.” 

The others made noises of agreement, their expressions ranging from slightly curious to indifferent. Katie sat down at an empty spot next to Captain Kogane and found herself staring across the table at Hunk. 

“Here.” He reached over and handed her an empty cup. “Lance’ll be back with more drinks in a minute.” 

Katie glanced around, noting the flushed cheeks and glossy eyes on most of the people gathered around. None of them seemed to be overly inebriated, but still… 

Captain Kogane saw her disapproving frown and blushed a bit. “We’re about as safe as we can get here in the Andromeda system, Miss Holt,” he explained a tad defensively. “And we never go overboard. This really is more of a social gathering.” 

A couple of officers nodded, and a couple more put down their drinks and looked away. Katie placed her cup on the table. “It’s not my place to tell you how to run your ship, Captain. Still, it may be for the best if I choose to abstain. My mother’s race was spared the dubious effects of alcohol.” 

“Well, that explains a lot.” 

Katie didn’t deign to respond as Lance sauntered into the room, a bottle in each hand. Yeoman Nyma followed close behind and set a bowl of fruit down on the table. The two of them squeezed next to Hunk on the couch and Lance started refilling cups. 

“Hey, Lance, when we get to Altea you ought to introduce us to the locals,” Nyma teased, nudging his ribs. 

Chuckling, Lance took a sip from his own cup. “I haven’t been to Altea in years, I doubt if anyone’d remember me. I was there as a medical student trying to understand quintessence, not a Starfleet Officer.” He let his head loll back until he was staring at the ceiling, and Katie saw a bead of sweat run down his sharp jaw. 

“We won’t be there long for much sightseeing,” Captain Kogane reminded everyone. “We need to collect our cargo and get it to Arus as quickly as possible.” 

Lance waved the thought away. “Yeah, yeah…” He righted himself and stared at Katie. His face was blank, devoid of emotion save for the burning in his eyes. 

“Miss Holt, you and I haven’t had much of a chance to get to know one another,” Nyma said, leaning forward. She was one of the few humanoids on the ship who looked remarkably different, with a tall, statuesque figure, creamy yellow skin, pointed ears, and jewel-toned purple eyes. She pushed back some of her long hair over her shoulder. “We’ve both been so busy, I guess.” 

Katie nodded. “I would assume so. While I am well aware of my duties, it has still been imperative that I familiarize myself with this ship. I have not had time before now to simply sit down and… socialize.” 

“And is everything ‘ship-shape’?” Hunk asked. He seemed relaxed, but Katie caught the nervous twitch in his cheek.

“Of course. I would have brought any problems I found to your immediate attention.” Hunk puffed out a breath, and Katie was somewhat surprised by the weight her opinion seemed to carry with him. “Unsurprising, really. You got perfect grades in all of your engineering classes in Starfleet Academy.” 

Hunk choked into his cup. “Wha- What? Wait… No, what?!” he gasped. 

Katie shrugged. “Your flight simulator grades were average, mostly due to your inability to handle vertigo well, but you maintained a perfect attendance record,” her eyes flitted to Lance, “Unlike some.”

Hunk stared down at his drink, brows pinched together. Keith coughed, and when she turned her attention back to him Katie realized the other officers were staring at her. 

“Did, uh, you go through Hunk’s records?” Keith asked, a pained smile on his face. 

“Yes.” 

“What the hell?!” Lance yelled, slamming his cup on the table. “Did you go through all of our records, pointy ears?” 

“Lance!” Keith hissed. 

“Yes,” Katie repeated, raising one eyebrow. “It’s my duty as Second Officer to see to the running of this ship, and I can do so most efficiently by knowing who exactly my colleagues are-” 

“By spying on us?” 

_“Lance!”_

“Only your public records, Doctor McClain. It is not my right to try and pry into your personal life, nor is it in any way of interest to me.” 

Lance opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out.

The stares had hardened into something dull and sullen. Katie stood up and nodded to Captain Kogane. “I believe I will retire for the night, sir.” She made for the door with less of her usual steadiness than she was used to.  


	44. Time to fly, bluebird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the few times I'll acknowledge s8 in my writing because we really need more fix-it fics.

This was a bad idea.

Such a bad idea.

Still, Veronica would kill her if she didn’t at least try. That’s what Pidge kept telling herself as she walked up the winding lane to the Serrano homestead. All she had to do was ask. If he said no, it wouldn’t be her fault.

How long has it been since she last saw him? A year? More like a year and a half. He’d missed last year’s reunion. ( _Skipped it, more likely,_ the nasty, bitter part of her mind whispered.)

She paused to look over the juniberry fields that sprawled around the large, comfortable looking farmhouse. Such strange flowers, with their large, angular petals that almost looked crumpled. Their scent was heavenly, though, and such a lovely shade of pink.

_“We wear pink to honor the fallen.”_

Her hand paused a mere inch from one of the stems, the urge to pick one suddenly quelled. A distant creak made her straighten and turn just in time to see the front door open and Sra. Serrano step out, a weathered sunhat in hand. The older woman shaded her eyes, and Pidge saw a glint of white as she smiled and hurried down the porch steps. “Miss Holt! Is that you?” 

Pidge waved back somewhat timidly and jogged over to meet her. “Hey, Sra. Serrano. Yeah, it’s me.” 

Sra. Serrano put on the hat and lifted the floppy brim so she could see Pidge properly. Pidge had actually gotten a bit of a growth spurt in the last year, just an inch, so now she was tall enough to see the top of Sra. Serrano’s head. “It’s good to see you, to what do we owe this visit?” 

“Um…” Pidge paused to straighten out her shirt. It was a beat-up tee, something she wore in the lab when she didn’t want to get her dress clothes covered in grease… or the occasional fire. She should have changed into something nicer. “Uh, I need to talk to Lance.” 

“Lance, hmm? Well…” Sra. Serrano pointed to a large red building just behind the house. “I think he’s in the barn with Kaltenecker and the other cows.” 

An unexpected, giddy delight burbled in Pidge’s chest. She hadn’t seen Kaltenecker in forever. “Okay, I’ll just be-”

“You’re staying for dinner, yes?” 

There was no room for argument, and Pidge knew better than to try. 

“Yes, of course, Sra. Serrano.” 

She’d just call Matt and tell him to hold off on Project Ithaca until tomorrow. 

Lance’s mother smiled and patted her shoulder. “You go ahead and see Lance. I’ll just be a moment then I’ll bring you two some lemonade.” 

“Oh, you don’t need…” her protests died away as Sra. Serrano hurried off. She sighed and trudged past the farmhouse to the barn. The idea of him being so close, just beyond those red and white double doors… 

She had to get over this. It was ridiculous. 

The interior of the barn smelled a lot nicer than she expected. Yes, there was a heady undercurrent of fresh manure in the air, but for the most part it was dominated by the scents of fresh hay and old leather. A couple horses peeked their heads over the stall doors as she entered before returning back to their food troughs. Pidge stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind her. Lance… wasn’t here.

A deep lowing drew her attention to a stall just to her right. Kaltenecker stared back, a few bits of straw poking out from between her teeth. Pidge grinned and some of the tension in her stomach unraveled. 

“Hey, girl.” She ran a hand over Kaltenecker’s wide muzzle, careful of the prickly whiskers on her nose. Kaltenecker lowed, her expression as dopey and peaceful as Pidge remembered. 

“Pidge?” 

Pidge squeaked in surprise and looked up at the loft. Lance peered down at her, a pitchfork in one hand as he wiped sweat from his brow with the other. 

Oh. There is was again. She figured the fluttery nonsense in her ribcage would have died after three years.  

It didn’t help that he was unfairly gorgeous. Farm life was a good look for him, despite what Veronica thought. His already dark skin had tanned a few shades, and his hair was almost long enough to qualify as a mullet (oh, the irony) but he pulled it off somehow. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt over a pair of overalls, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, pulled taut against his biceps. One of the overall buttons had come undone, and it should have made him look like a hick but it didn’t _and had his chest gotten broader???_

“Hi…?” she tried, not quite sure what to do with her hands. 

Lance’s mouth quirked into a lopsided grin that punched her in the gut. He stuck the pitchfork into a bale of hay with a quick jab and crouched. Before Pidge realized what he was planning, Lance had jumped from the loft and landed on the ground with a quick somersault. He sprang to his feet and scooped her up into a hug. “Hey, Pidge!” he laughed, showering her with bits of straw. 

Pidge let her arms wrap themselves around his waist. He was solid and sturdy, a fuller version of the weedy teen he’d been at the start of their adventures. And sweaty. She wrinkled her nose at the ripe smell and pushed him away after a few seconds. “Ew, hug me after you’ve had a shower, farm boy.” 

A soft snort escaped him, and he pulled back just enough to squeeze her shoulders. “Good to see you too, jerk,” he quipped. He paused, his eyes roamed over her just long enough for her to become self-conscious. Her breath stuttered when he reached out and flicked her bangs back. “New haircut?” 

Yeah, brand-new actually. As much as she liked her hair long, it wasn’t very conducive to lab safety. And she had to admit, after years of having it short, she’d grown used to it. At least now it was a decent haircut, short and sophisticated instead of the lion’s mane it had been for so long. 

“Pidge?” 

He was staring. She hadn’t answered. “Uh, yeah!” She nodded too quick and felt her ears grow warm. 

Lance cocked his head. “It looks good.” 

Oh boy. She did not need this right now. “T-thanks…” 

Thankfully, he turned his attention away from her to pet Kaltenecker and gave her time to recalibrate. (She definitely wasn’t starting at the stubble on his jaw, nope, not her.) “Sooo… um, I have a reason for being here,” she started. 

_(“Please, I don’t care what you do, just get him off that stupid farm.”)  
_

“I need your help.” 

Lance blinked at her. “Huh? _My_ help?” His mischievous smile softened into something genuine.

“Yeah.” Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge saw a small tabby nose its way along the wall, on the hunt for an unlucky mouse. “We need flight instructors, and you’re our first pick.”

The smile died.

“Not for forever,” she hurried on. “We’re just gonna be understaffed for a while, a few weeks, maybe a month? Shiro’s going on a deep space mission and Hunk and Keith are busy, I’ve got my research… we could use the help.” 

“Pidge, I haven’t flown in… a long while” Lance trailed off, and the melancholy in his posture was nothing but heartbreaking. “There’s gotta be other people more qualified.”

“Everyone’s got a lot on their plate-” 

Lance frowned and gestured around them. “And I don’t?” 

Pidge bit her lip and counted to ten before she could say what was really on her mind. ( _Been spinning his wheels so long he doesn’t realize he’s in a rut._ ) “Your family can take care of the farm just fine without you. Please, Lance. You’d be doing us a huge favor.” She tried batting her eyelashes and clasping her hands together - it worked on her dad, and Lance was just as much of a dork as he was. “Don’t you miss flying?” 

(Of course he did. He looked like a bird with clipped wings.)

He sighed and rubbed at his brow. “Listen, I’d love to help out-” 

“Great!” 

“But-” 

“Nope!” She slapped a hand over his mouth. “Not doing that!” 

His brows wrinkled into a halfhearted glare and she smirked. She couldn’t explain this sudden rush of confidence, maybe it was just the thought of seeing him every day again. (Cripes, she was still in over her head.)

“I’m staying for dinner, then you’re packing your bags and coming with me to the Garrison, right?” 

There was no room for argument, and Lance knew better than to try.


End file.
